


So It Goes

by aphishinthec



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Awkward Flirting, F/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-05-10 01:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14727033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphishinthec/pseuds/aphishinthec
Summary: Aliana Evans spent her entire life on the outside looking in. She spends a lot of her time on the road, but every so often she returns to the Alexandria Safe Zone to be with her half brother Aaron. Their little world is about to get a whole lot bigger when Aaron brings back another group of survivors, and Ali's life will never be the same.Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the characters, or their dialogue from The Walking Dead TV show or the comics. I am merely borrowing them, and some of their beautiful words, so my OFC fits in nicely.





	1. Chapter 1

She lies on her back in the woods. 

 

Staring at the sun streaming through the canopy of leaves and listening to the rustling wind and the birds surrounding her. 

 

It's almost as though this new world is imagined. A distant memory, a nightmare only to be revisited in a passing thought. She hasn't seen any of the dead for a while. And it is here that she takes some time to reflect, a quiet moment in the chaos of what her life has become.

Aliana is Georgian born and bred. How she ended up in Virginia, in a once posh community, fortified to keep out the ugliness of the apocalypse, is beyond her. Now accustomed to the harsh reality of the new world, but she often wonders if this is why she spends most of her time beyond the walls instead of embracing the safety they provide. 

Only one thing matters to her within them.

Aaron.

Even though he could hardly stand it there, they knew they needed a sort of home base. Somewhere they could reunite. Though she has her brother, she feels very alone. Aaron has Eric, his main tie to the community he still feels like an outcast in. However, Eric has yet to fully adapt to the pain and fear of their new life. 

Still, they keep her coming back, keep her grounded somewhere instead of floating with the wind as she often does.

Clunky footsteps in the distance cause her to sit upright quickly. Scanning the trees, she notices a man, or what used to be a man, catch sight of what could potentially be food. 

Her. 

She looks at him lazily, observing his movements and sounds, fascinated by the way he noticed her and stupidly goes in for his soon to be unsuccessful kill. Deciding on the machete versus her knife, she crouches. She waits, she watches.

“Come on. Disgusting bastard.” She says quietly.

He approaches, arms outstretched for a part of her to grasp, and in one fluid movement she springs up planting her machete down the middle of his skull. His arms go limp, he begins to fall as she plants her boot in his chest to give herself some leverage to extract her weapon. 

Minimal splatter, little gore, maximum kill. 

She looks upon his face, he was young, mid to late thirties.

“I'm sorry. I know you didn't ask for this.”

With that, she wipes her blade on his shirt before shoving it back in its sheath. In that moment she made her mind up to head home. Her brother in her thoughts, she knew he'd be waiting.

 

*****

The walls come into view. 

She sees the painted sign, beckoning newcomers, promising safety, promising security. She's filthy, and she's weary, covered in blood not her own, long raven hair pulled back into a greasy bun. As she passes the ramshackle house just beyond the entrance she remembers what's hidden there.

Guns. Her own guns acquired on her journeys. 

Within the walls guns are confiscated. It makes her feel like a child, like she can't handle them, though she considers herself much more experienced with the dead than at least 85% of the people who reside there. Still, she dutifully hands her pistol over every time she returns, keeping in her mind what's also hidden in the floorboards of her bedroom. It's then that she is noticed by a young resident passing by the gate. His approaching footsteps pull her from her thoughts, a place she has spent the majority of her time for the last 3 weeks.

“Ali?” He calls.

She looks up, nods, and waits for entry. As the gate slides open, she is greeted by a young man of nearly twenty.

“You missed some interesting shit. Took in a new group a few days ago.” He says quietly but excitedly, as though he's afraid someone might hear.

“Oh yeah?” She asks somewhat indifferent.

“Yeah, they looked about as rough as you do!” He says with a slight chuckle.

She looks at him blankly, then turns and heads toward the armory. Leaving him to wonder where she has been, what she has seen, and why she hardly ever says anything.

Olivia greets her in the garage of the house turned armory/communal pantry.

“Hey Olivia.” Ali says with a hint of the southern twang of her youth.

“Come to check your weapons?” Olivia replies. “I know you hate it Ali, but it's not my rule.”

“It's fine. Hey listen, Jonathan said something about a new group, my brother around?”

“Hmm, oh yeah! He left this morning, shadowing one of them, trying to figure these people out. They're a bit rough around the edges. He should be back tonight though.”

“Thanks Olivia, just the one pistol. See ya around.”

Leaving her pistol with Olivia, Ali decides to make her way to her brothers house, to her home. It's a warm day, the sun making her feel uncomfortable in jeans and boots, and now that she can be less on edge, the severe exhaustion and sleep deprivation really hits her. 

She sees Jessie out in her garage and decides to stop and talk a minute, she was one of the only females in the community Ali could relate to.

“So, what are you working on now?” She says, effectively startling Jessie, who always seemed to be slightly on edge

“Ali! My god, you scared me to death!” She says laughing. “When did you get back? Are you staying longer this time?”

Ever the mother, Jessie feels a great deal of concern for Ali's inability to stay within the safety of the walls. She takes in her somewhat haggard and exhausted appearance with caution.

“Just got back not too long ago. I'm going home, having a smoke, then going to my room to sleep a couple of days. Got it all planned out.”

“Well you look utterly exhausted. And starving.”

“I'm fine Jessie. I promise. I'm definitely tired, and I'm sure Eric is cooking tonight so once I emerge from this coma I'll eat.”

“Hey, if you feel up for it, there's a get together tonight at the Monroe’s. A sort of welcome to the community party…”

“For this new group I keep hearing about I assume?”

“Yes. I've met the majority of them, by and large they're nice. Some of them look like they have seen some shit, but it's good they're here. They have experience in the outside world, something most of us are lacking.”

“I'll see how I feel later, you know I'm not much for social gatherings. Even ones that include spaghettios and warm beer.”

As Ali goes to leave, Jessie calls after her.

“We’ve missed having you around. Aaron especially. When you're gone, he can't stand being here. He found the group out looking for you. Please don't stay out so long again, we were starting to worry.”

Ali looks back, her bright amber eyes glinting in the afternoon sunlight, and nods in understanding.

“Okay mom…” She says with a devilish grin on her face. Jessie smirks and turns back to her work. Heading back through the alley to the back door of the home she shares with her brother and his partner, Ali lights a fresh cigarette. She's already daydreaming about her room and the safe solitude she will find there.

 

*****

 

Waking up hours later in the large chair in her bedroom, Ali finds herself groggy, disoriented, and disgustingly filthy. She can smell food and hear movement in the house below her.

Standing up stiff and sore, she walks over to her drawers to grab some jean shorts and her oldest, most comfortable flannel shirt before sneaking out of her room to the shower.

 

Downstairs, Aaron hears Ali walking from her room to the bathroom, then the shower cut on. He shoots Eric a knowing look before turning to their guest.

“My uh, sister is back. She usually goes upstairs to sleep a few hours before cleaning up. It's her homecoming ritual.” Aaron says. “You'll like her, I think you might be similar in some ways.”

“This the sister you were looking for when ya found us?” The guest asks.

“The very one.”

After a very hot shower and a fresh change of clothes, Ali feels better. She towel dries her long dark hair before chucking the towel on the bed and making her way downstairs.

The air smells of spaghetti sauce and the atmosphere is light. She stops in the hallway at the sound of Aaron and Eric talking to someone.

“Fuck.” She mutters. Meeting new people always reminds Ali how terribly uncomfortable she is in her own skin.

“Aliana?” Aaron calls out.

Having been found, she straightens up to pretend to be confident when walking in the room. There seated at the table, with plates of glorious smelling food, are Aaron, Eric, and a stranger.

She stares, longer than she probably should, at the guest. 

His dark hair covers his eyes and he sits leaning over his plate, eating somewhat primitively. He looks up and his light blue eyes catch hers, causing her to immediately shift her focus to Aaron, as he gets up to wrap his sister in a warm embrace.

“We were worried Aliana. Three weeks and we hear nothing from you? It's too long.” He somewhat scolds, with a hint of pleading for her to reconsider leaving again.

“I know, Jessie told me. I'm sorry.”

“We’ll talk later, sit down next to Daryl there and I'll bring you a plate.” He moves to go fix her a plate as she cautiously goes to take the empty seat next to the guest, whose name was apparently, Daryl.

“Daryl and his group joined us a few days ago. I found them while out looking for… while I was scouting. I assume the rest of the group is at the Monroe’s but we have determined parties aren't Daryl’s thing, ours either.”

Daryl let out a sort of grunted laugh that seemed to confirm his distaste for social gatherings.

“I don't blame you.” She says, directed at Daryl but staring at her hands on the table. “Bunch of stepford wives and their clueless husbands. The kids are okay though.” Her intent is to sound sarcastic and slightly humorous, but the bitterness of the statement shines through.

Daryl stops eating and turns just slightly to look at her, a look of quiet contemplation on his face for a moment before taking a few long swigs from his wine glass.

She feels heat from her embarrassment creeping up her cheeks as her gaze lingers on Daryl quickly downing his glass of wine.

His senses are assaulted by the smell of eucalyptus and lavender as she flips her damp hair back over her shoulders when Aaron sets her plate in front of her.

 

She's the sweetest thing he's smelled in a good long while.

 

“Thanks…” Daryl says as he wipes his mouth in his sleeve.

“Oh!” Eric suddenly speaks up, turning to Daryl “When you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs Neidermeyer is really looking for a pasta maker, and we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it. I mean, we have crates, of dried pasta in here but she really wants to make her own or something. I really think she just wants something to talk about, so… If you see one, on your travels, it would really go a long way to… ” he trails off as Aaron gives him a wide eyed look.

Ali sits there quietly, mouth full, looking from face to face, waiting for someone to say something to ease the awkwardness of the moment.

“I thought it was done,” Eric says sheepishly. “you didn't, ask him already.”

Aaron returns the revelation with a silent shake of the head.

“Ask me what.”

Ali silently rises and takes her plate to the counter. She's decides she'll finish eating later, but for now, she has to know where this conversation will go. She dips out the back door for a smoke as she hears Daryl and Aaron moving towards the garage, but stays within earshot as she's intrigued by this stranger of so few words.

Aaron flips on the garage light illuminating the room full of motorcycle parts and a mostly intact bike. Daryl steps closer to it for a better look as Aaron explains how it was there in the house when they moved in and he figures after their conversation earlier in the day, Daryl would know what to do with it.

“You see, you're going to need a bike. I'd like you to be Alexandria’s new recruiter. I don't want Eric risking his life anymore. Sometimes Aliana goes with me, but I can't always count on her to be in town. She's sort of, a free spirit, I guess.”

“So you want me risking mine…” Daryl says quietly.

“Well, yeah. You can tell the difference between good people and bad people, and you know what you're doing. You don't belong out there, but I understand the need to be out there sometimes, I feel it too. Hell, my own sister can't stay put.”

Daryl silently nods taking in the gravity of this request.

“Yeah. I'll do it. I ain't got nothin’ better to do anyways.”

Aaron's face brightens. Nodding and looking thoroughly relieved, he accepts Daryl’s answer.

“And, I'll get you some rabbits…” Daryl says, his tone and mood softening at once.

 

Hearing the whole exchange Aliana can't help but smile.

She watches from the darkness of the yard as Daryl inspects the motorcycle parts and Aaron explains where he found the various parts along his travels.

He's filthy, but she's captivated by his beautiful face. His expressions are telling of someone who has experienced a lifetime of horrors in a short few years. He's quiet, contemplative, and doesn't give more information than necessary when he speaks. His soft, gravely voice gives her chills when she hears it, a feeling she hasn't felt in years. She wonders why she's instantly attracted to him, what it is about him exactly that's causing her to feel this way.

She knows getting involved with someone in the community is a mistake, a mistake she's already made.

And been burned by.

 

Daryl looks toward the opening of the garage where he notices a large well worn, olive colored, duffle bag with a bow and quiver of arrows in bad shape.

“Those belong to your sister?” Daryl asks.

“Yeah, not her number one weapon, but I know she's pretty decent with it. The other ladies around here take pride in what casseroles they can make with only canned goods, Aliana prides herself in learning to use any weapon she can get her hands on. I found that bow shortly after we settled in here, and even though it's always with her beyond the walls, I'm fairly certain she still sneaks out to practice while she's home.”

Daryl nods, a look of consideration on his face.

They finish their conversation about his new job and as he goes to leave, he catches the smell of Aliana’s cigarette. He can't help but look into the darkened back yard area where the only light is the glowing ember she holds.

“Want one?” She asks quietly, holding the pack out to Daryl.

He shrugs and accidentally brushes her cold fingers with his warm ones as he takes a cigarette for himself. She feels her stomach flip with excitement.

“Thanks.” He says, muffled by the filter held between his lips. He pulls out a silver lighter and lights his cigarette, taking a long draw.

“I found a carton while I was on the road. They're stale as shit, but if you ever need a smoke, you know where to find me.” She stubs the short out in the ash tray and walks over to collect her bag and bow.

He watches her, in cut off shorts and a long, very oversized flannel. Her hair is loose and still damp. A curtain of dark waves, cascading down her back. Her body is tall, and thin, but somewhat muscular. She would be stronger given the right nutrition, but he knows what it's like out there, when you often don't know when your next meal will be. She moves with such grace and confidence, he wonders if she can actually hunt. He looks back to the arrows as a way of breaking his concentration on her.

“Your arrows look like shit. What’d you do to ‘em?”

Bright amber eyes look up at him, drawing him in like a helpless moth, to a warm, inviting flame.

“Killed my dinner on multiple occasions, took out a ton of roamers. Im not a perfect shot.” She picks up her belongings and heads back in the garage door. “Goodnight Daryl.” She says with a timid smile, and closes the door behind her leaving him in the garage with his thoughts.

Inside the door, Aliana stands there wondering if Daryl The Stranger is still there with the same sort of dumbfounded expression she wears.

Yes, she's attracted to him. Things in Alexandria have been rather dull, leading to her boredom and desire for the excitement involved with meeting a man.

But, when is it actually appropriate in this life to become involved with someone? When is it safe? When can she give herself away and not be fearful one or the other will not return from the horrors outside?

Would he, or anyone, even want her? Desperate for company and attention, she resigns herself to, at the very least, learn more about the man of very few words. What could it hurt anyway?

 

Daryl silently turns and walks back to the house his group is occupying. He tries to focus on the fact that he tried fitting in, and with a new job in the community, he's actively continuing to try. His mind, however, keeps returning to the woman, her simple understated beauty, and the fact that she didn't look at him and focus on his filthy appearance.

He isn't used to such a feeling of attraction from a woman. He's used to being overlooked by women altogether. Either that, or feared. His experience with women is nonexistent, aside from a hooker Merle got him on his 21st birthday and some fast fucks with women from bars.

These are uncharted territories for Daryl, and just that brief dinner was enough to scare the shit out of him.

Trying with all of his mental strength to focus on the positive, he feels like she's different than most.

Something in the way she looks at him.

 

Most importantly, she didn't pretend like he wasn't there.

 

 

No.

She saw him, and he saw her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you all like it!
> 
> Let me know what you think! ❤️

She wakes with a start.

It's never easy getting used to being back in the house, and not having to sleep in fear of what may be lurking, ready to take her to hell. Ali knows she should probably check in with Deanna, but truthfully it hasn't seemed like the most inviting thing to do.

She gets up and makes her way to the bathroom.

While preparing for the day, she looks at herself in the mirror. Gaunt and exhausted looking, a different woman than the one she feels like inside stares back at her. She pulls her hair into a ponytail as she hypes herself up to face the day.

Finding the house already empty, Ali sets out for the Monroe house, a setting she's not terribly interested in entering, but it's necessary nonetheless. 

It's a grey overcast day, but the heat is exhausting. The town is just waking up, and the residents are, for the most part, working to get the new group situated. 

Deanna is outside speaking with a pretty young brunette woman. Assuming she's from the new group, Ali cautiously approaches.

“Aliana Evans. I heard some talk that you were back, but I'm glad to see you for myself.” Deanna says placing a hand on Ali's back.”This is Maggie Rhee, she belongs to the group of new faces you'll see out and about today.”

Maggie raises her hand and gives a slight wave. Her face wears a genuinely polite smile.

“Maggie, will you give me a minute with Aliana, it's been nearly a month since I've seen her and I need to check in with her about her job.”

“Sure, no problem, I'll just be inside. It was good to meet you Aliana.” Maggie says as she turns to leave.

“Please, call me Ali, and it was good to meet you as well.” Ali responds just before Maggie reaches the door.

Once they are alone, Deanna decides to reveal her request. Something she knew was coming, but was dreading nonetheless.

“I'm going to need your help while you're here. The new group has well, let's say, an interesting array of individuals. Now, you've lived here, but you've also lived out there, you know what it's been like for them. I'd like you to just keep your eyes open and your ears to the ground. I want to learn about these new people. I want to know how they have been surviving together all this time.” Deanna asks, urgently but quietly, as though she's afraid someone is listening.

“Why do you want me to do that? Didn't you interview them when they came in? Anyway, I've only met one of them so far. A guy named Daryl.” Just saying his name causes her to recall his face. The sloppy way he ate spaghetti. The way he lit his cigarette. The way he seemed to actually see her. She gives her head a slight shake to refocus herself on Deanna

“I'm having a hard time figuring a lot of them out. Especially Daryl. I know Aaron is going to ask him to be his recruitment partner. He says he can be trusted, and is above all, loyal to his people.”

Ali narrows her eyes, trying to figure out her motive.

“I'm not going to go out of my way to spy on him or any of them. I'm sorry. If I happen to see something concerning, I'll be sure to let you know.” Ali's tone contains a tinge of bitterness at the older woman's audacity to ask her to be such a snake. “I've got to go, I'm going to help Jessie deliver items from the pantry.”

“Just think about it.” Deanna responds as Ali is walking away. 

She raises her hand in a half hearted wave, to acknowledge she heard her.

 

*****

By late afternoon Ali had met and interacted with most everyone from the new group. Rick, their leader, had taken on the role of the town constable. A role which Ali wondered was all that necessary, but after hearing about the fist fight between Aiden and the young Asian man Glenn, she reconsidered her original opinion.

Aiden is the worst kind of asshole. Ali used to do supply runs with his group, her final run with them lead to multiple people being killed, and narrowly escaping death herself. He and his friend Nicolas have no clue how to handle themselves or deal with roamers. Sure, they're able to kill one or two. However, once a group appears, it's every man for himself. 

The truth is, they left people. They left them for dead. She tried, but she couldn't save them alone.

There is also the burden she carries that involves Aiden. A night of drinking after a run gone wrong led to sex. The biggest mistake she's made in her time in Alexandria. Her refusal of any further advances from Aiden earned her the name “the slut”. He felt he should not be refused. He still feels like he is more than worthy of her time, that in fact, she is not worthy of his.

People talked about her, then they forgot. But he didn't forget, and he wasn't going to let her either.

Aiden is why she had been gone for 3 weeks.

Everyone seemed very reserved, almost even suspicious of her as she brought supplies by with Jessie. 

 

The only face she didn't see, was the one she hoped she would.

 

On her way back to Aaron's house, she runs into Enid, and wraps the young girl in a hug.

“How are you?” Enid asks, slightly muffled by the hug she's still consumed by.

“You know, I'm doing okay. I think.” Ali says, releasing the teen and simultaneously discovering the wooden pegs she holds in her hands.

“I'm going to head out. I just want to be alone for a little while.” Her face is nervous, sheepish, almost expecting judgement from Ali.

“There shouldn't be anyone behind our house. I won't follow you, but leave the pegs in the wall, I've got to get out of here too.”

Ali cups Enid’s face with her hand for a second and walks away, leaving the girl wearing a smirk from the unexpected tip she received.

She runs up the front steps of the house, eager to grab her things and depart undetected. What she didn't know, is that someone noticed.

Daryl sets the wrench he had been using down and sits back from the position he had been squatting in for some time. He has been working on his new bike the entire day. He pulls out his very old, red handkerchief and wipes his face. At this point, he's thoroughly covered in sweat from the heat of the day. He listens carefully as he hears running feet bounding up the front steps of the house. Unaware that Ali's room is just above the garage, he wonders who is tearing through the house like it's an emergency. He rises, grabs his crossbow, and waits.

Moments later he hears the back door open and close very quietly. Daryl walks over to the opening of the garage, hidden behind the small amount of wall by the track for the door, he watches. Ali emerges with a pack, her bow, and quiver of beat up arrows on her back. Her hair is tied back, she's wearing jeans and boots, and it's obvious to him she's about to leave. 

Instead of walking around the front to the street, he's confused when she walks over to the wall and begins climbing some wooden pegs that extend from one of the support beams. She disappears over the top, he assumes to slide down one of the slanted supports on the outside, and is gone.

Daryl jogs around to the street. He's curious what she's up to. 

 

But most of all, he wants to see what she can do with that bow.

 

*****

 

All of her senses come alive in the forest.

It's green, overgrown, and almost suffocating, it's so humid. 

This place is quiet and it is where Ali feels the most safe, and the most afraid all at once.

She has a few targets set up on a tree, and one small log tied to a very sturdy branch on the same tree. She uses the log as moving target practice, and the little ones on the tree to perfect her small target aim. 

After nailing a few arrows onto the log, she feels confident to start tracking some animals. What she is unaware of, is that she is being tracked herself.

Daryl moves quietly through the woods. He notes that she's very good at not leaving a trace. Her trail is very faint, but he finds it. 

She knows what she's doing.

He comes up on her as she's just shot a squirrel. She's retrieving her arrow when she hears the tiniest snap.

Daryl cringes as he knows he's been found. He was sloppy in his haste to find her. 

Her presence distracts him.

She whirls around and has an arrow aimed at him in a matter of seconds. Her stance is perfection. Solid. Unyielding.

His reflexes take over as he takes aim at her with his own weapon. He regrets it instantly, but in this world, you're quick, or you die.

They stare at each other. 

He notices her perfect form, the atmosphere practically hums with energy around her.

She notices when the sun hits his eyes just right, they resemble a sky after a storm. Blue. Sharp. Beautiful. They are all she can see of his face over the crossbow, trained on her with unrelenting accuracy.

Daryl lowers his bow first, and holds his hands out in submission. 

Ali slowly lowers hers.

“Why are you following me?” She asks quietly.

“Saw you jump the wall. You always go out that way?” He asks cautiously, as if his words will scare her away.

Ali shrugs.

“Sometimes. Mostly when I don't want anyone to follow.” She pauses. “I don't need a babysitter out here.”

“I ain't here to babysit. You wanna go hunt?”

Ali narrows her eyes, and considered the question a moment before answering.

“Okay.” She says, nervous to be beside a hunter so adept.

He holds his arm out for her to lead the way. Once she chooses a direction he falls in beside her. As equals they look for a trail, and in silent expression, they share their findings. She points to some droppings, he shows her prints. Their skills lead the hunters to a clearing, where in the open, is a young deer. Crouching close together in the brush, Daryl catches her eyes.

“It's yours, take the shot.” He whispers.

She stands slowly and gracefully, taking aim. 

As he watches her, he notices something is amiss in her posture. He stands up behind her to offer gentle correction.

He leans in close.

“Breathe.” He says, placing his hand on her arm that holds the bow string. His voice so soft, and quiet, yet gravely. 

Her skin bursts into flames under his touch.

She takes a breath, resets the deer in her sight, and confidently lets her arrow fly.

Her aim is true. She only has to shoot once.

With a look of elation and disbelief, she turns to face him. His lips pull into a half smile and he nods, granting the approval she hoped he would give.

“You know what you're doing. You just got to breathe.” He says. A compliment that means more than he will likely ever know.

She watches as he goes to collect her arrow and hoist the deer over his shoulders. Carrying it back to where she stands, he sets it down, as it's obvious there's something on her mind and she's not ready to leave yet.

“I practiced a lot before I started leaving Alexandria. Once I was out there and I knew what it was like to starve, I forced myself to do better. The first thing I caught was a rabbit. Not enough fat to be sustainable long term, but it was something, and I caught it myself.” Ali recalls the memory of her first kill with the bow. A time when she was 50 miles from Alexandria, beyond hungry, and exhausted.

“You have a home to go to. Why do you stay out here?” He asks directly.

She takes out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a drag. He's momentarily hypnotized by how she takes the smoke in. Her full lips are naturally pink and he can't help but watch them and the way they move. Unexpectedly, she passes it to him. He inhales deeply, tasting her on the filter.

“I can't be in there.” She says, her mood darkening. All evidence of her previous triumph erased from her beautiful face.

His eyes appear lost in thought as he gives her a slight nod and passes the cigarette back. He reaches over her, tucks her arrow into the quiver on her back, and collects her kill.

While they walk back, they don't speak. The silence is comfortable, familiar almost. They both notice the sun setting through the trees and the sky burning out in oranges, pinks and purples. While they marvel at the beauty left in the world, the dead find them. 

They always do.

“You got it.” He says, and looks to her from under the weight of the deer.

Confident, she releases two arrows. Perfect head shots. 

He gives her another half smile as she jogs back from retrieving her arrows. His praise is all she needs in that moment. Her machete remains untouched during this venture into the wild. He gave her the confidence she couldn't feel within herself with a single word. 

 

Breathe.

 

After a while he notices she has fallen back a few paces. He stops, turning to make sure she's alright. 

“It's not a home, you know. It's just a place where all my shit is.” She's speaking to him, but she releases her words to the ground. “Aside from Aaron, nobody really wants me there.”

He stares for a minute. She catches up to him and they continue walking. Though they are quiet, his mind is loud with thoughts so new and confusing.

 

He wants her there.


	3. Chapter 3

They fell into a comfortable pattern. 

Early in the morning, Daryl would take Ali hunting with him. She was a natural, she just needed help gaining confidence. It makes him feel good about himself to help her develop her skills. It makes him feel good about himself to be useful, and needed.

 

She makes him feel good about himself.

 

Within a few days she was tracking animals almost as well as he was, his next lesson was people.

“You need to learn to track people in case we get separated. Or in case there's trouble.” He warns.

She nods, grateful for the knowledge he was cultivating in her, but fearful at the thought of losing him out there. It was one thing to read a map and find her way, it was another altogether to find someone.

They used a series of whistles to locate each other in the woods. He taught her different tones and what they would signify to him should he hear them. She took great care to memorize them and they practiced daily. 

In the afternoons she would help him work on his bike. She had a CD player and a couple of CDs she acquired while scavenging. They would listen and sometimes talk, and it was almost as though the world didn't belong to the dead.

Almost.

Though their friendship is just beginning to bloom, he feels he can trust her. It feels good to have someone similar to him.

But she is still a mystery.

 

Rick had made the decision there needed to be shifts at the watchtower at all times, and on the night of their seventh hunting excursion, they were paired together. A person from Rick’s group was usually paired with an Alexandria resident, in an attempt to instill camaraderie. Daryl was relieved he wasn't paired with any of the other Alexandrians. He feels comfortable with Ali, and she with him. He appreciates the fact that they could be silent together and she never felt the need to fill the void with mindless chatter. They spoke when they had something to say, otherwise they just existed. Together.

On their way back from their hunt, the subject of their watch that night came up.

“So, we just sit there and make sure nothing happens?” Ali asks, genuinely curious.

“Yeah, nothin’ happenin’ is a good thing, trust me. I'll bring smokes if you bring something to eat.” 

“Deal. I'll see if I can find us some coffee too.” Ali smiles, excited and nervous all at once. She continues walking in the direction of Aaron's house.

“Hey,” he calls out.

She stops.

“Ain't you ever had someone to watch over you?” 

“Not in here.” Her face falls at the thought. “Well, except for Aaron. I'll see you tonight.”

 

*****

 

8:00 pm was the start of their shift.

She climbs the tower to meet him, but she knows he is already there. He is always on time.

Opening the door, she finds him. The setting sun casts a warm glow in through the window, and he stands looking out over woods. His crossbow is leaned against the wall by his side, along with a rifle equipped with a silencer.

She can tell he's freshly showered, his hair is damp and he smells inviting. She smirks at the fact that she had the same idea. Nervous to share close quarters with him, she had taken extra time to make sure she was clean.

He looks back and greets her with a slight nod, before turning back to squinting in the sun. He picks at his nails and in this light she sees his hands well. Strong, dangerous, scarred. She finds herself briefly wondering what those hands have done.

A quiet part of her mind whispers her desire to feel his hands on her.

“It's beautiful.” She finally speaks, nodding her head towards the blazing sky. “Southern sunsets are unbeatable.”

“Yeah…” he agrees and looks upon her face.

Her eyes are captivating. 

The sun streaming in illuminates the amber green with a sunburst of a burnt sienna around her pupil. Her creamy pale skin is flawless aside from a light sprinkle of freckles under her eyes. Surrounded by a halo of wild dark hair, she is absolutely stunning to him. 

He wants to look away, he knows he's being awkward, but he can't. 

“What?” She asks, smirking nervously. She's wondering if there's something on her face, and briefly panics thinking there might actually be.

“Nothin’.” He shrugs, looking back down at his hands. “What you got in the pack?”

“Oh, just some necessary items. I've got peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a thermos of coffee.” She says as she hands him her travel cup.

He takes a large gulp and she laughs as he grimaces.

“The fuck kind of coffee is this?” It's strong, black, bitter, and silty.

“The best kind. No chance of falling asleep when you have this.” 

“You ain't gonna fall asleep up here with me. I won't let ya.” He looks to her and his eyes look the way they did when he had his crossbow aimed at her. Hungry, urgent, longing. They burn through her.

That statement takes her undersexed mind places she wishes it wouldn't. She is more desperate for his companionship than for his body. Although each day the latter wins the fight in her mind.

They stand together, every so often taking out a roamers with their silenced rifles. Comfortably quiet and happy to be in each other's presence.

 

*****

 

Ali looks at her watch. Midnight exactly. Her body is tired from getting up early to go hunt with Daryl, but her mind is racing. She has so many questions she wants to ask, so many things she wants to know about him. In the woods, they are usually quiet, but here she feels safe and completely alone with him.

She is surprised when he speaks first.

“You grow up in Virginia?” After the last word he looks over at her. His blue eyes are silvery in the moonlight and his hair is dark against his skin.

“No actually, I'm from Atlanta.”

“No shit. How'd you end up here?”

“My mom worked in a bar. She was a drunk and a junkie. She, I guess, seduced Aaron's dad while he was in the bar taking a break from his colleagues on a business trip. He was from here, well, just outside D.C. She claims they used protection, but she got pregnant anyway.”

Daryl looks down and shakes his head. He knows where this is going.

“I was absolutely unwanted, but my mom figured out pretty quick she could get more assistance as a poor unwed mother. Aaron's dad wanted nothing to do with me. He paid her monthly to keep quiet and not tell his wife about me. She blackmailed him into doing that, I’m sure. So, as soon as I was old enough, I went to try and find my dad. But by then he had died of a heart attack. I showed up on his doorstep expecting him to be there, but his wife and son answered, and they said he was dead. So, I told them who I was, and she told me to get the fuck out. Aaron ran out after me and I've been with him ever since. That's the condensed version. Unpacking that whole phase of my life would take more time than either of us has.”

He looks conflicted, like is mind is many places at once. It makes her wonder what he grew up in, what he has lived through.

 

“I got nothin’ but time…” his face softens, “for you.” The last two words were so quiet, she almost wasn't sure he had spoken them.

She smiles at him but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

“How about you?” 

“My situation weren't no better. My mom died when I was a kid, and my old man was a prick. My brother was older and in trouble a lot. Spent a lot of time by myself, spent a lot of time learning to survive.”

“I'm sorry about your brother.” She says quietly, cautiously.

“How'd you know he's dead?”

 

“He's not here.”

 

He leans with both hands on the windowsill. His face is dark.

“Yeah, well, he gave himself up to save us. That's gotta mean somethin’ right?” He asks, looking over to where she sits with her back against the wall.

“That means everything.” Her voice barely above a whisper. 

They return to their reserved alliance. He lights a cigarette and passes it to her. They savor the taste of the other on the tip. A secret neither is willing to reveal.

She wants him. Every part of him. But she's not willing to lose this.

He wants to reach out to her, to take her. He wants to erase every fucked up thing she's experienced. He wants her to feel wanted by him. Her mind, her spirit. Her body.

 

He's a prisoner in his mind, and her gentle words spoken in the dark, hold the key to his heart.

 

*****

 

At 2 am they are relieved by a large red headed man named Abraham, and a thin woman with short brown hair that Ali knew previously as Francine. Abraham smirks and gives Daryl a hearty clap on the back. 

He thinks they have been fucking.

Daryl narrows his eyes with a glare that could kill and Abraham begins to ascend the steps of the tower.

Ali hides her nervous chuckle. 

She knows he's going to walk her home.

“Deanna wants me to go on a run with Aiden, Glenn, and some others from your group. We have to find solar panels to repair the power grid and she wants someone from here going who is as experienced out there as your people.” She confesses, regretting waiting until now to say something.

“Aiden know what he's doing out there?” Daryl asks skeptically.

“Hardly. We've lost several people with him in charge, and my hopes are that Deanna will appoint your people for the main run group. I stopped going when I was almost killed last time.”

This is not what Daryl wanted to hear. He's worried he won't be there to be by her side, but he knows that Glenn is worthy and would never willingly allow something to happen to her, or any of the group members going.

“We’re heading out in the morning too, me and Aaron.” He reveals, slight disappointment evident in his gravely voice. “You take care of yourself out there, alright?”

She nods and turns just slightly, as if to walk away, when he does something unexpected. 

He reaches out and takes her hand, so gently, it's as if he's afraid she will break.

“Hey, if you need me, you come find me. Stay off the back roads. We’re goin’ to head down parallel to highway 1. Won't be gone too long. We just wanna see what we can see. Get to scouting some.” 

He very gently rubs the top of her hand with his thumb. A move imperceptible to anyone but her, whose skin feels electric under his touch, and her body is overly excited by the contact.

“You just make sure you come back.” Is all she can manage to choke out. Inebriated by the feel of his simple gesture. 

They walk back to Aaron's, still hand in hand. She's trying to calm her eager mind, but is failing miserably. 

Once at the porch, they turn to face each other.

He cups the side of her face in his hand.

She closes her eyes.

 

“Don't forget to breathe.” He whispers.

 

She opens her eyes as he drops his hand and walks away. 

Unable to speak, she watches him go.

 

*****

The sun was an unwelcome sight.

It's been over a month since the last supply run Ali was a part of, and she's terrified to go again. She remembers Daryl telling her he would trust Glenn with his life, that he has on multiple occasions, but she knows Aiden can fuck nearly anything up in a heartbeat.

She packs her backpack with no real sense of urgency, when she hears a quiet knock on her door.

Daryl stands motionless, crossbow over one shoulder, looking exhausted.

She moves to one side so he can enter.

Her room smells like heaven and is the most inviting place he's ever been.

Because it's hers.

She has a queen bed with a white down comforter and dark grey sheets underneath. Her bed is unmade and looks like it hasn't been unoccupied long. There is a chair the color of the sheets in the corner that holds some of her clothes draped carelessly over the back. Near the window is a small table that holds her bow, arrows, and machete, and looking out of place, a Polaroid camera. 

Tacked onto the wall above her table are pictures of her and Aaron and Eric. There are a couple of her with Enid, the teen girl Carl has been spending time with. Some with Jessie, the blonde woman Rick seems to have taken a shine to.

“So I don't forget their faces, you know, in case something happens” she says almost sadly when she catches him looking at them. 

In the middle of the floor is a black throw rug. Scattered all over the rug are books. Novels, short stories, biographies. He wonders what she likes to read best.

“In case you should ever need it…” she trails off while walking over to the rug.

Crouching down, she lifts a corner of the rug up and pulls out her knife. She inserts the blade in between a few smaller pieces of the wooden floor. With a little work they come loose.

Intrigued, Daryl squats down across from her. Making eye contact with him, she smiles and pulls out a 9mm handgun. She ejects the magazine to show him that it's fully loaded, before putting it in her bag.

“There is another one in there, along with bullets for it. I only take one with me at a time and I always put them back loaded and cleaned. Should you need them or if anything happens to me…”

“Ain't nothin’ gonna happen to you.”

“… they're there. And there are 3 more hidden in the floor of the house outside the walls, and in another house in the woods about 7 miles west from here. I use it as a base when I'm out scavenging. I just wanted you to know. I wanted you to be prepared.”

He looks at her intently, and watches as she stands and finishes packing. Reaching into her bag she produces a pack of cigarettes and hands them to him.

“You can't say things like that. You can't make promises like that. Anything could happen to anyone at any time. We just have to prepare ourselves in case it does.” Sadness evident in her eyes as she adjusts her pack on her shoulders.

Looking down to the ground, he's sorry he said anything.

“Wanna come see the bike?” He asks, changing the subject. He's hoping to brighten their last moments together.

“Absolutely I do. I want to be there for her maiden voyage!” 

He holds his hand out to the door and she leads the way to the garage.

There in the middle of the room is the completed bike.

Looking back at him with an enormous grin on her face, he can't help but smile back at her, it is genuine and filled with elation.

He walks over to the bike, puts his crossbow in the holster on the back, and gets on. He looks up at her while he lifts the kickstand up, starts the bike, and prepares to ride to the gates.

“Ride with me.” He says, holding his hand out to help her on the back.

She takes his hand while they share a long look at each other. 

She carefully climbs on the back, fits her body against his, and wraps her arms around his waist. 

 

This is the most intimate moment of his life.

 

The ride to the gates is short. Too short. It's still thrilling due to the closeness they share.

Aaron is already there in a car, and Ali knows their time together is coming to a close.

She climbs off runs over to hug Aaron, who kisses her on the forehead, and comes back to stand next to him. There is so much she wants to say, but she doesn't know how. He looks at her expectantly, squinting slightly in the sun.

“Be careful.” She says, using her wrist to wipe some sweat off of her forehead.

Daryl nods and reaches to his back pocket. He pulls out his old red handkerchief, begrudgingly laundered by Carol, and ties it to her wrist. 

“Be back soon.” He says. “Don't forget what I told you to do.” He reaches up, cups the side of her face, then revs the bike.

Just like that, they're gone.

And she's feeling more empty than she has in years.

Glenn and his wife Maggie are saying their goodbyes as they see this exchange take place.

“What do you think is going on there?” Glenn asks suspiciously.

“I don't know, but I think it'll be good for him. I've never seen him like this.” Maggie says quickly as Ali approaches them.

“Ready to go?” Ali asks.

“Let's do this.” Glenn extends his hand for a fist bump.

Ali is thoroughly amused as their knuckles connect. 

There are two things she can't get past though. 

Whether or not everyone she's leaving with, will be coming back alive.

 

And how much it terrifies her that there's always a chance she will never see the hunter again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I promise there will be a bit more action in the next chapter. I've just been focused developing their little relationship. ❤️


	4. Chapter 4

All she can hear is the sound of her own retching.

The bitter painful feeling of vomiting nothing but bile, brought forth by witnessing one of the most violent and gruesome scenes her brain had ever had to process.

Gentle hands grab her upper arm as she looks up with bloodshot eyes.

“You okay?” Glenn asks urgently, as he smoothes sweaty hair off of her face. “We gotta go, it's not safe.”

She nods weakly.

He ushers her to the back of the van, where she takes her place holding pressure on Tara's head wound.

 

Eugene is holding a gun aimed at Nicolas, and she can't remember why.

The van hits a pothole and her head hits the back wall. A searing pain shoots through her causing her to reflexively reach up. There is blood running down the back of her scalp. The sight of it triggers her.

She had been avoiding Aiden or she would have been there to see him shooting at the roamer with the grenades sooner. She could have stopped him. Sooner.

Glenn tried.

But it was too late.

She felt her body being thrown against a shelving unit, rough metal cutting into her head. Glass fragments spray into her face and she cannot breathe.

Then, Glenn is pulling her up and they run, dodging roamers previously trapped but released by the blast. Within the office of the building they are discussing their escape when they hear a groan from outside. A weak plea for help.

Aiden wasn't dead.

But he was about to be.

She is in a daze and everything is happening so fast. Her mind is trying to retreat within itself, shock fighting to settle in, but she can't. She won't. 

They cannot leave him behind, there has to be a way.

She swings her machete wildly, roamers coming at her on all sides, slicing a rotten head off before scabby hands can grab at Glenn. He looks back and nods his thanks. Ali takes her place next to Noah, and they cover Glenn and Nicolas as they work to save Aiden.

But Nicolas is scared, and he runs. She tries to help Glenn, but she's not strong enough.

“They're coming!!” Noah yells, a desperate warning as the dead close in.

He can't hold them off any longer. Bony stinking hands outstretched close in on what little space she has, and suddenly she's being pulled. She's running for her life.

She tries to remember the door. Tries to remember what happened.

All she can hear are Noah's words.

“Don't let go!”

All she can see is his face, torn apart with just a pane of glass between them.

All she can remember is screaming and crying and Glenn holding her.

Then, the van. And then the gun. Nicolas did this. Nicolas caused Noah's death.

 

All he had to do was hold the door.

 

The van stops abruptly and Glenn jumps out. 

“I need help!” He's shouting and her head is hurting.

Residents filter in to help Tara, and Ali fades into the background.

 

She runs home.

_“It's just a place where all my shit is.”_

She remembers his face, and she realizes home is with him.

_"If you need me, you come find me.”_

She puts water in her pack, grabs her bow, and some ammo.

She scales the wall with Enid's pegs, and is gone.

It's about a mile to highway 1. They can't have gone far.

_“Stay off the back roads.”_

She knows she'll be in trouble, she knows she'll catch hell, but she can't stay. She may be experienced surviving out in the world, but nothing could have prepared her for the horror she witnessed. 

Nothing.

She runs. She runs until sweat clouds her vision and her stomach burns as though it's filled with battery acid. 

She finds highway 1, its parallel road and Daryl’s bike, hidden in the brush. 

 

The woods are quiet. Deathly quiet. Not even the dead are present to witness her breakdown. She allows herself a minute to catch her breath, and as she does sobs wrack her body. She falls to her knees, clutching her arms, clutching plants, clutching dirt.

_“Don't let go!”_

“Oh… god.” She sobs. His plea for help. Desperately grabbing at her shirt, Glenn pulled her back as the sea of the dead took him.

So she wouldn't be pulled under.

 

She dry heaves again thinking about Noah's face. The violent horror.

_“Don't let go!”_

Her stomach squeezes her like a vice until the pain in her gut is so severe, she's sure the only things left to come up are vital organs.

She cries until she's staring blankly and hiccuping. She's utterly filthy. Gore from the rotting masses coats her clothes, her hair is matted with blood from her head wound, her face is cut and bleeding from the glass.

She remembers her shower last night. So meticulous. Trying to be as inviting as possible for him. She remembers the way Daryl smelled. Like the woods, like cigarettes, like rain. The way he took her hand this morning and the way she fit on the bike behind him. Like their bodies were made to fit together.

She looks down, remembering the tied handkerchief. The sweet token of friendship. She calms, clutching her wrist to her chest. She will find them. Her tracking skills refined by the very best.

Daryl.

With renewed energy, she gets up. She allows herself one, two, three gulps of water and she moves, tearing through the woods like a tornado of brutality.

She doesn't care who sees her, she doesn't care what finds her, she just has to find…

Him.

The sun is still shining, but by her watch, it will begin its descent westward soon. She doesn't want to sneak up on them in the dark.

She picks up on multiple trails, a lot of them are dead ends. Roamers.

But after what seems like hours, she gets her first lead.

A roamer. With a small hole in his forehead.

Daryl doesn't leave bolts behind, unless he's in trouble. 

She searches the ground nearby. Two people were here, one more defined set of tracks, and one very faint trail.

He knows what he's doing out here.

She lets Aaron's tracks be her guide, and she follows.

 

*****

Daryl and Aaron had taken some time to rest. They were on the trail of someone who knew what they were doing, someone who does their best to not leave any trace.

He has spent the entire day lost in his thoughts. Worry plagues his heart. But he has to trust her, to trust her abilities.

 

She knows what she's doing out here.

 

They've come across several walkers with a W carved in their forehead. People can be assets, but they can also be liabilities.

The sun is beginning to set, and they make the decision to camp. They find an area dense with trees, and Daryl strings up some cans. He's tying the knot when he hears a low whistle.

“Did you hear that?” Aaron whispers, confused and a bit fearful.

“Shh…” Daryl holds his hand out as he listens. Slowly picking up his crossbow with the other.

The whistler sounds out of breath as they make themselves known again.

Daryl knows this tone. This signifies to him the whistler is to approach. And there is only one person alive who knows. 

It can't be.

He returns the whistle and looks to his right.

Out from behind a large pine, Ali emerges.

She's dirty, and bleeding, but she's here, and she's alive. The terror in her eyes is evident as she stumbles toward him.

He drops his crossbow, and gently takes her in his arms as he feels her body quake with exhaustion against his chest. 

He smoothes her hair down over the back of her head and his hand comes away bloody.

He and Aaron share a look.

“Aliana! Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” Aaron’s shock at the sight of her causes him to blurt out questions rapid fire. “Have you been following us?”

She stares. He doesn't let go.

The sanctuary of his presence brings her mind back into focus.

All three are silent.

“Aiden and Noah are dead.” She speaks into his chest before turning her head to the side.

The sound of his beating heart is the only thing that keeps her from losing her mind.

 

_“Don't let go!”_

 

His words replay in her mind over and over.

“What happened” Daryl says, his voice low and gravely.

 

She recounts the harrowing experience to the best of her ability.  
His beating heart is keeping her together.

He doesn't let go.

 

*****

 

They sit by a meager fire. They're tailing a man in a red poncho, and they would rather see him before he sees them.

Daryl begins to get up, he likes to keep an eye on the woods around them, when she reaches out to grasp his arm.

“Don't leave.” She says softly. Her voice ruined by the anguish of the day.

“I ain't leavin’ you again. Just makin’ sure it's safe.” He says, in a low voice, thinking of a girl with golden hair.

_She's just gone._

Aaron looks between the two of them. The way they look at each other, the protective stance Daryl has had over her since she found them, the way he held her together. A smile slowly spreads over his face. 

He knows.

Daryl steps out and away from their camp, while Ali aimlessly pokes at the fire with a stick. Until now, she hasn't let him out of her sight.

After a minute or two, Aaron speaks.

“You're in love with him, aren't you?” Aaron says in hushed tones. Trying, so carefully, to guard her vulnerability.

She looks up, eyes glassy with exhaustion and tears. She's overstimulated. Emotional.

“I know you.” He says. “you've been like this once, and I see what's happening here.”

“Please.” She begs. A single word to protect the secret she keeps in the deep recesses of her heart. One she's not willing to share, afraid of losing something so new, so precious to her.

A friend.

 

Daryl doesn’t go far. He won't leave her side until she's feeling confident again. He makes no noise as he comes up on their hushed conversation.

The revelation of her love spoken into the black and desolate night tugs at his heart.

He's terrified. He tries to retreat, but he can't. 

 

*****

 

In her dreams, she sees Noah's face, bloody and desperate. She sits upright and looks around frantically in the dark until her eyes adjust. Aaron is asleep. It's Daryl’s turn on watch. He sits next to her. Keeping his promise to stay close.

“It's okay.” He looks over at her through hooded eyes. 

“I'm weak.” She says, scrubbing her face with her hands, wincing in pain as a cut on her forehead opens again.

“That kid was killed right in front of you. Ain't nothin’ goin' to erase that.” 

“We got back, and once Tara was taken care of I just left. I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I just. Ran.”

He reaches out and touches her hand. It keeps her grounded.

“Deanna isn't likely to believe Aiden got himself killed. I'm the only witness to prove Glenn's innocence, and I fucking left.” Her voice trembles, but she does not cry. She's got nothing left. “I'm no better than Aiden.”

“You ain't like him.” He says forcefully. Angrily.

Aaron had revealed her past. Her drunken mistake, Aiden’s propositions, her refusal time and time again, the shame he made sure she felt. A scarlet letter burned into her chest.

 

She is a gentle soul in a violent world.

 

“What if she makes me leave?” 

“Rick won't allow that.” 

_I won't allow that._

She looks at him through wide, exhausted eyes. Puffy and bloodshot from her tears.

“You ain't gonna deal with this alone.”

She stares

 

She is silent and still for a long moment. In the dark of the night, their eye contact is heavy. His eyes longing for something he would never take for himself. Trust, intimacy, love. All hard to come by. But he's trying.

All he can do is try.

Nervously, she reaches up and pushes his long hair out of his face, fingertips lingering on his cheek. He watches her, unsure of how to accept her touch. She slides her hand to the back of his head, pulls him closer, and gently presses her lips to his. 

She breathes life back into his hurting, broken heart. This is no awkward sloppy kiss from a hooker. No unwanted affection from a drunk woman in a bar. 

This was real. This was adult. This was wanted. The gentle way she kisses him screams, I am yours, you just have to take me.

He's reluctant, but responds by reaching his arm around the small of her back to close the gap between them as he deepens the kiss. 

He has never felt more alive.

Aaron stirs in his sleep, causing him to break the kiss abruptly and turn away. Bandits in the dark, stealing pieces of each other, praying no one will see.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…” 

She's afraid of losing him.

He reaches out and wipes at a smear of blood on her forehead.

“Get some sleep.” He says, looking out into the dark, looking anywhere but at her. “I ain't goin’ nowhere."

He holds his arm out for her to lie next to him.

She does.

A moment later, she feels him place his timid hand on her back.

_I'm here. It's safe._

Within minutes, she's asleep.

 

*****

 

Daryl is disoriented when he wakes. Aaron had been quietly gathering their things to get ready to move, when he decided to carefully wake Daryl. He's not a man you want to startle upon waking.

He reaches behind him and gives Ali a gentle shake causing her to groan and press her face into her hands.

“No.” she says, voice raspy 

She remembers screaming, vomiting, crying.

She hasn't forgotten the previous day.

She hasn't forgotten the kiss, and her unacknowledged apology.

 

“C’mon, we gotta get goin’” sitting up, he grasps her arm to tug her into a sitting position.

Her head pounds harder than the worst kind of hangover she's ever had, but he helps her to her feet and they gather up what's left.

 

They move. Ali in front, Daryl and Aaron behind her.

Daryl watches the way she glides through the woods. Effortlessly, silently, alert. She has her bow out, looking for game trails, but always waiting for the dead. The back of her hair is matted from her dried blood, and her face is cut up. But she's alive, and she's here. 

He thinks about her hushed conversation when they thought he couldn't hear.

 

_"You're in love with him, aren't you?"_

 

She stops short, and holds a hand out behind her. Daryl comes up close and they see body parts littering the ground.

“Whoever did this, took what was left with ‘em… this just happened.” He says raising his crossbow and stepping in front of Ali.

Aaron raises his gun, keeping close to his sister, they keep walking. This time more alert.

They come upon a tree with a disemboweled woman tied to it.

Ali covers her nose and her mouth and stands behind Daryl, unable to look away.

“She's tied up… and they fed on her. They tore her apart.” He turns to Daryl “This just happen?”

He nods, grimacing. “Yeah.”

“How the hell did this happen?” Aaron whispers.

Daryl steps forward and lifts the woman's head up. Cloudy eyes open slowly, so he does the only humane thing. And his knife is pushed into her head.

He looks back at Ali, noticing she's still staring at the woman. He grabs her forearm, breaking the spell the body has on her, and guides her away.

 

They walk for a while, Daryl leading them. He stops. He's picked up a trail.

“Somebody came through here a while ago.”

“If we see them, we hang back, setup a mike, watch and listen.” Aaron says optimistically.

“For how long?” Daryl asks.

“Until we know…” Ali answers. She had largely been silent until now, living in the recesses of her mind. Moving with Daryl and Aaron on autopilot.

“We have to know.” Aaron finishes her statement.

“You sent people away?” Daryl asks, “What happened?”

“It was early on. Three people, two men, and a woman. Davidson was their leader, smart as hell, strong, I thought they'd work out. They didn't. I brought them in, and I had to see them out. So me, Aiden and Ali, drove them out far, gave them a days worth of food and water and left them.” Aaron explains solemnly.

“They just went?” Daryl asks

“Not without getting the jump on Ali. So we took their guns. All of their guns. And she left one of them mortally wounded."

Daryl looks at Ali, who is hanging back, pretending to be very interested in something on the ground. He wonders what they did to her.

“I can't make that kind of mistake again.” Aaron says, thinking of that day. Seeing a gun to her head was something he'll never forget. Something he will never forgive himself for allowing to happen.

Aaron continues walking, but Daryl hangs back waiting for Ali to catch up.

“You alright?” He asks. She's pale, with dark circles under her eyes.

“Yeah, I'm just tired.”

“Listen, we come across this person, and they ain't friendly, you gotta look out for yourself. Get the hell outta dodge.” Concern plaguing his stormy blue eyes.

“I won't leave you.” She counters, defiantly.

“Won't be for long, I'll come find you, just want you to be safe.”

She tucks her cold hand in his warm one and gives it a squeeze before letting go. She looks up at him, amber eyes blazing against the grey of the morning.

“I won't. Leave you.” She repeats. 

He smirks at her stubbornness.

“Alright.” He says, his voice tired and raspy.

“Hey!” Aaron calls out in a loud whisper “I see him a ways away. Red poncho guy!”

 

They walk to catch up with Aaron, when he stops short. She looks at him questioningly.

“I ain't sorry.” He says directly before turning to walk away quickly towards Aaron.

 

She watches him go, and the ghost of a smile tugs at her lips.


	5. Chapter 5

Miles of wandering, days of searching, the trail has gone cold.

They were beginning to feel discouraged. The wear and tear starting to show on their bodies. Ali is more withdrawn, Daryl is quieter, and Aaron talks more and more to ease the constant silence.

Until a warehouse.

A warehouse of canned goods.

They know it's probably too good to be true, but they have everything to gain.

“We checked the forest, we checked the roads, we can't find him. Sometimes they slip away, it happens. But, you don't come across something like this every day.” Aaron pleads his case.

Daryl looks through the fence with a pair of binoculars sizing up the situation while Ali takes a headcount of the dead.

“We do this now, means we're giving up.” Daryl warns.

“Home is fifty miles back, it's time to go.” Aaron says quietly “You saw it last night, there's bad people out here.”

“That's why we gotta keep looking for the good ones.” Daryl steals a glance at Ali, knife ready, patiently waiting for someone to say the word.

“We need more people, and we’ll find them. But, when we do, we’ll need to feed them.”

“Alright.” Daryl says, then he taps the metal fence with his knife.

He looks to Ali and nods, his quiet way of letting her know he will be there by her side.

They take out as many walkers as they can through the fence, before Aaron pulls it open and they make their way inside. Ali reaches down to wipe the gore off of her knife before filing in behind them. 

She glances over to an old station wagon, wondering to herself if it still runs, and making a mental note to check on their way out. 

Something doesn't seem quite right. She finds it impossible this place is completely intact.

There are a row of three trucks. Cans are tied to the sides, out of place, making Ali even more uneasy. Just their clanking has her itching to cut them down.

_”How the harvest gets home”._

Red letters on the side of the truck catch her attention, and she reaches out to brush some dirt away.

She jumps when a hand curls around her bicep.

“C’mon,” She looks over, not realizing Daryl was so close. “Stay by me.”

Ali nods and together they move up the ramps to the back of the trucks.

“Huh.” Aaron says quizzically. “Whoa! Wasn't sure I’d ever see one of these.” He reaches down to detach the Alaska license plate.

Still at the ramp, Ali trades out her knife for her machete, keeping watch. She's nervous, on edge.

She's always ready to fight.

Daryl notices.

“Hey listen, I don't like giving up either, but the guy is in a red poncho, you can see him a mile away.”

Aaron works on the license plate while Daryl moves over to Ali. Her demeanor is making him anxious.

“You good?” He asks.

“No. But I can't really put my finger on why.”

He grunts his response as he looks around.

“You know, we've gone a lot of miles here, and no sign of ‘em.” Aaron points out, plate finally free from the truck. “But, we come away with a trailer full of cans, I'd say that's a good trip.”

He joins the solemn pair at the truck on the far end.

“Here we go.” Daryl bends down to open one of the trailers.

It happens so fast.

A wire is tripped and like a row of horrible dominoes all three trailers come open, revealing masses of the dead, stupidly waiting there to be freed.

“Shit!” Ali yelps as she turns to take off down the ramp, with Daryl right on her heels.

They reach the parking lot to find walkers pouring out of the other side of one of the trailers as well. They're surrounded. She ducks as she is almost grabbed and pops back up to swing her machete. It makes contact with a sagging head making a sickening squelch. Daryl is by her side with his hunting knife, taking out another walker before it can grab him.

“Over here!” Aaron calls and they run over to crawl under a trailer, hopefully buying them some time to figure out what to do.

Ali grimaces as a female walker growls by her feet, a bloody W on her forehead. 

“C’mon!” Daryl grabs a chain he finds under the truck and hands Ali his crossbow, preparing to make a break for it. They crawl out quickly and are on their feet in seconds. He uses the chain like a whip to effectively decapitate three walkers at once. Ali stares wide eyed and tosses him his beloved weapon in time for him to pin a walker that was grappling with Aaron.

They push their way into the dead. She ducks down and runs as hard as she can as hands grab at her from all angles. They reach the car in the lot they had seen coming in and Daryl shoves her in before he and Aaron push in behind her. She stumbles over the seats into the back, heart pounding, breathing hard, but otherwise miraculously unscathed.

“The glass will hold for a while right?!” Ali asks looking over Daryl’s shoulder, completely out of breath from the exertion.

“Uh maybe.” Daryl is still clutching his knife, a hint of fear in his response. “Maybe we can make it so they can't see us, in a couple of hours something will come by and they'll follow it out. There's gotta be something we can use to block the view. We can cut up these seats.”

Ali is quiet as Daryl bends over his seat sizing up the one she sits on. It's then that she notices Aaron pulling out a small yellow piece of paper. She leans forward to get a better look. 

_TRAP BAD PEOPLE COMING DON’T STAY_

Half of the note is written in blood. All she can think about is whose blood it is.

Aaron and Daryl exchange glances while Ali covers her face with her hands in an attempt to calm her breathing.

 

They sit. Grey hands scrabble on the windows leaving smears from oozy flesh and blood.

Ali begins to sweat. Her erratic breathing coupled with the close quarters have created a hot box from hell. She resigns herself to the fact that they will likely die here.

“Huh.” Daryl breathes out a small, half hearted laugh.

“What?” Aaron asks, genuinely curious.

“I came out here to not feel all closed up back there. Even now, this still feels more like me… then back in them houses. That's pretty messed up huh?”

Aaron smiles, a look of empathy and understanding on his face.

“You were trying.” Ali croaks out, her throat is dry, her voice a ghost.

“I had to.” Daryl speaks toward the window

“No. You didn't.” Ali leans forward and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You didn't, but you did. That's everything.”

“Listen, I saw you with your group, out on the road. Then you went off on your own by the barn. Storm hit, and you led your people to safety. That was it. I knew I had to bring you people back.”

Daryl considers Aaron and his kind words, it's obvious he's trying to work something out in his mind.

“You were right Daryl, we should have kept looking for that guy in the poncho. We shouldn't have given up. You didn't.” Ali laments as she sits back and lazily stabs at the car seat with her machete, almost as if there aren't fifty undead corpses trying to claw their way in.

“I'll go.” Daryl pulls out a cigarette and his lighter. “I'll lead them out. You take Ali and make a break for the fence.” 

“What?! No!” Ali shrieks, her voice cracking with desperation.

“No, no, no, this was my fault.” Aaron says.

“It wasn't a question…” Daryl says to Aaron, then he turns to Ali “and this ain't your decision. It ain't nobody's fault. Just let me finish my smoke first.”

“No. You don't draw them away. We fight. We go for the fence, we do it together. Alright? Whether we make it or not, we do it together.” Ali struggles to make her point, but she says it with conviction. “I won't leave you.”

“We have to.” Aaron agrees. 

She takes Aaron's hand and squeezes it hard. He lightly kisses her knuckles and doesn't let go. 

Daryl feels a pang of regret. They were never that way, him and Merle.

She reaches out for Daryl's hand and is comforted when he takes it and squeezes tight. The three of them share a moment of silence, a bond formed with the knowledge they could be spending their last moments of this world together.

“Alright.” He stubs out his cigarette. “You ready?” He asks both of them.

“Yeah.” Aaron answers, positioning himself to jump out quickly.

Ali doesn't answer, she can't. She's preparing for war.

“We’ll go on three.”

Her heard pounds wildly. 

“One.”

She lifts her machete.

“Two.”

She clutches the door handle, positioning her body so she can shove the dead and if she's lucky, run.

But before he can say three, a head smashes against her door, and seconds later it's thrown open.

A man with a staff blocks her body just enough so she can get out and get moving. She stops a walker from grabbing him as he works to reduce the immediate hoard.

They run. All four of them. Alive. 

She is weightless with euphoria. The moment the gate closes she bends down with her hands on her knees to catch her breath. 

Aaron, breathing heavily, expresses his gratitude to the stranger.

Daryl hovers.

“I'm Aaron, this is Daryl, and over there is Ali. “

“Morgan.” The stranger replies.

“Why?” Daryl asks.

“Why? Because all life is precious Daryl.”

“Whoever set that trap, they're... they're coming. But um, I have good news, we do. We have a community not too far from here. Walls, electricity, it's safe. If you'd like to come join us…” Aaron talks fast, scrambling to say what he needs to say.

“I thank you, but I'm on my way somewhere. Fact is, I'm lost so, if you could tell me where we are.” Morgan hands Daryl a dirty folded map. He unfolds it just once, to see a very familiar looking note scrawled at the bottom.

_SORRY I WAS AN ASSHOLE. COME TO WASHINGTON. THE NEW WORLD’S GONNA NEED RICK GRIMES._

“You know him?” Daryl asks cautiously.

“I do… I do indeed.”

 

*****

 

In the darkness, Ali sees the gates come into view. 

She had been resting her head on Daryl's back, completely and utterly exhausted.

Her arms around his waist, he would every so often put his hand over hers as they whizzed through the night.

_I'm here. It's safe._

Though she was tired, and bruised, she opted to ride with him instead of with Aaron and Morgan when they got back to their car. 

 

Being on his bike is his form of intimacy.

 

Spencer opens the gates, telling Ali and Daryl everyone is in the commons area. They're having a town meeting.

About Rick.

“Better get over there, could turn to shit.” Daryl warns her, and she nods in agreement.

They park his bike outside of Rick’s house and make their way to the common area.

Voices carry. Some hushed, some elevated. Angry.

Pete storms out from the shadows ahead of them, holding a katana. Michonne's katana. He's a tidal wave of rage on a crash course for the community meeting.

Aaron and Morgan take notice and follow after, with Daryl and Ali close behind.

“You're not one of us! You're not one of us!” Pete growls, unable to contain his fury.

“Pete, you don't want to this this.” Reg, Deanna’s husband, desperately tries to diffuse the situation.

They grapple with the sword and then a sea of red crashes down Reg.

Ali covers her mouth with her hands, stifling an audible gasp as they witness the senseless brutality. Pete had effortlessly slit his throat. Daryl steps slightly in front of her, protective, in case things go from bad to worse.

Deanna screams, the women scream, Abraham tackles Pete, and Rick draws his gun.

Ali catches Daryl's eyes and he holds her gaze.

He doesn't let go.

 

“Rick, do it.”

 

A gunshot rings out in the night. Ending a life that was hurting others. Justice by way of a single bullet.

 

“Rick?” Morgan speaks.

Daryl, Ali, and Aaron stare.

 

*****

 

He finds her on the garage roof.

She's smoking a cigarette pensively. Her hair is clean, loose, and tousled by sleep. The cuts on her face have been cleaned and have mostly faded. She was waiting for him, willing him to her with her mind.

Then he appeared.

She had made peace with Glenn, apologized for leaving. Instead of being upset, he hugged her and thanked her for covering him when Nicolas would not. She just stared at the ground, unable to accept his thanks.

She had avoided Deanna. Not that it was difficult. After Pete, she holed up in her house with Spencer, unwilling to see anyone.

Exhausted, she had retreated to Aaron's house for a shower and to sleep a while, hoping Daryl would come find her after talking with Rick. 

Here he was, just as she had hoped.

“The house is unlocked.” She offers, quietly.

He squints up at her for a moment, before silently going in through the door. Seconds later, he's climbing out of her window and taking his place next to her. She hands him her cigarette, and he takes a long draw.

The silence is heavy between them.

 

_“You're in love with him, aren't you?”_

 

Until she speaks.

“You're a good person Daryl. You know that?”

He scoffs.

“What you tried to do for us, when our back was to a wall… was one of the most selfless things anyone has ever done for me.”

“It's nothin’.”

“No, it's _everything_.”

He can't look at her. While he craves her praise, anyone's praise, he's unable to accept it. 

“But when we're out there,” She continues. “I'll never leave you. Ever.” Her voice trembles slightly, genuine emotion making cracks in her previous attempts to close herself off to the world.

 

She takes his hand, and intertwines their fingers. Aside from one rogue kiss, this is the only affection she's brave enough to show.

He savors this moment. Committing it to memory so that when times are dark, and so bleak, he can remember her touch.

 

And her kind words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️❤️❤️❤️


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

“Take the shot.” He whispers, so close her body erupts in delicious chills.

 

She lets a perfectly aimed arrow fly, piercing the body of a decent sized rabbit.

Their eyes meet. She gives him a shy smile, which he returns with a sort of half smirk.

“You remembered to breathe.” He compliments her as he works to string the rabbit to his belt.

“I'm trying.” She remembers that first day they went hunting, his gentle correction of her stance, the way her stomach clenched with desire.

She would practice every day for the rest of forever, if it meant more time. 

With him.

They walk, perfectly in sync, bodies aligned, quietly moving through the forest. 

“Rick said we don't need to be looking for people anymore.” He speaks, something weighing heavily on his mind. 

“Do you agree with that?”

“I don't. There's still gotta be people who need help out there.”

“Morgan came across those people, the ones with the W’s. I guess I understand his viewpoint, but all I can think about is that woman… the one on the tree…”

He stops short, and turns to face her.

“I know. We happen across someone while we're out here hunting, we ain't leavin’ them. Okay?”

She nods, and they begin their careful pace again. They didn't venture far out today, and neither of them speaks until they are parting ways at Rick’s house.

“You goin’ to that meeting? About the quarry?” Daryl asks, squinting in the sun.

“Yeah, I'll be there.” She answers with a slight grimace. “But, wait for me, before you go. Will you?”

He nods. He's good at hiding his emotions. All but anger. Deep down, he relishes her request. To arrive somewhere by his side, to be seen with him. He mattered, and the elation is a struggle to contain.

She doesn't want to go to the meeting. She never went to these things before.

 

Before him.

 

*****

“My team, we saw it early on.” Heath, one of their main scouts, begins to unfold his story of discovering the quarry. Worried eyes are downcast all around him. “Back when we were on one of those first scouts, finding out what was around here. There was a camp at the bottom. The people, they must have blocked the exits with one of those trucks back when everything started to go bad. They didn't make it. They were all roamers. Maybe a dozen of them.”

“No one’s been back since?” Maggie asks.

“D.C., every town worth scavenging, they're all in the other direction.” He responds. “And I never really felt like having a picnic next to the camp that ate itself.”

“So all the while the walkers have been drawn by the sound, and they're making more sound, and they're drawing more in.” Michonne points out, a hint of exasperation in her tone.

“And here we are.” Rick finishes. Not hiding his frustration. “Now what I'm proposing, I know it sounds risky, but walkers are already slipping through the exits. One of the trucks keeping the walkers in, could go off the edge any day now. Maybe after one more hard rain. That exit, sends them east. All of them. Right at us. This isn't about if it gives, it's when, it's gonna happen. That's why we have to do this soon.” 

“This is… I don't even have another word for it. This is terrifying. All of it. But it doesn't sound like there's any other way.” Carol says.

Ali knows Carol’s meek and fearful housewife demeanor is all an act. Daryl had clued her in on this recently. But, she still finds herself wondering what the act is for.

She is grateful for the secrets he reveals to her.

“Maybe there is. I mean, couldn't we just build up the weak spots? I could draw up plans. I worked on the wall with Reg. Construction crew… we can try and make it safe…” Carter, a middle aged resident, nearly pleads with Rick.

“Even if we could, the sound of those walkers is drawing more and more every day. Building up the exits won't change that.” Rick responds.

“We’re gonna do what Rick says, the plan he's laid out.” Deanna, previously quiet, says to the window. She's indifferent, a result of her grief.

“I told you all, we’re gonna have Daryl leading them away.”

Everyone looks to where Daryl sits on the windowsill. Ali stares from her window perch right across from him. They sit close together, comfortable enough their legs touch in the small space. Though all eyes are on him, there are only two whose opinion he cares about. And right now, a look of concern is plaguing them. As he meets her bright eyes he knows this is the first she is hearing about his volunteering to be live bait.

“Me too.” Sasha speaks up. “I'll take a car, ride next to him. Can't just be him. I'll keep them coming, Daryl keeps them from getting sloppy.”

“I'll go with her.” Abraham says solemnly. “It's a long way to white knuckle it solo.”

“We’ll have two teams. One on each side of the forest helping manage this thing. We're gonna have a few more people on watch from now on. Rosita, Spencer, and Holly. So they're out. So who's in?” Rick looks to the worried faces, look looking for volunteers.

“Me.” Michonne offers.

“I'll do it.” Ali speaks up. 

Daryl turns his focus on her, but she can't look at him. Rick gives both of them a nod of thanks.

“I'm in.” Glenn says with resignation.

“I’d like to help as well.” Father Gabriel raises his hand.

“No.” Rick snaps. “Who else? We need more.” 

“There's gotta be another play. We just can't control that many.” Carter pleads. Desperation creeping into his tone.

“I said it before, walkers herd up. They'll follow a path if something's drawing them. That's how we can get ‘em all at once.” Rick sounds as though he's reassuring a child.

“So, what? We're supposed to just take your word for it? We're all supposed to just fall in line behind you after…” Carter trails off.

“After what?” Rick asks. Daring him to say more.

“After you wave a gun around screaming, pointing it at people. After you shoot a man in the face. After you…”

“Enough!” Deanna yells. 

“I'll do it.” Health volunteers.

“Me too.” Francine adds.

“Whatever you need, I'm in.” Tobin offers.

“Now who else?” Deanna asks with force

“I'll go.” Nicolas raises his hand. “We have to do this, I need to help.” He justifies.

Ali narrows her eyes. She and Glenn share a look, before he turns his focus to Rick.

“You sure you can handle it?” Rick asks incredulously.

“You need people.” Nicolas point out.

Rick nods.

“We'll make this work, we’ll keep this place safe. Keep our families safe. We will.” Rick desperately tries to improve morale.

“The plan, go through it again.” Carter sneers.

“Man, he just said it.” Daryl quietly snaps. Ali puts a calming hand on his knee. His focus shifting to her gentle touch.

He looks over to find her staring at him. There is something in her eyes he can't quite read.

“Every part. Again.” Carter insists. “The exact plan.”

Ali stands up abruptly and pushes her way out of the room. The screen door on the house slams behind her as she walks quickly down the porch steps. She hears the door open and close again, and hurried footsteps work to catch up with her. A hand curls around her bicep and stops her. 

She knew he would come.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you.” His words brimming with regret.

“Let me go with you.” She insists.

“Look, ya can't. I'd rather you be with me, but this ain't safe. It's ain't like when we're out there scouting. You're gonna have to go with Glenn.”

“That fucking idiot Nicolas almost got us killed last time.” She raises her voice. She can't forget Noah's final moments.

_“Don't let go!”_

“Glenn ain't gonna let nothin’ happen to you. And he needs you there with him.”

Ali stares at the ground. She knows what can happen when people are separated. She knows what can happen at any point in time, on any given day. Death. 

He reaches up and gently cups the back of her neck, pulls her to him, and wraps his arms around her.

 

She closes her eyes, and breathes him in. The woods, cigarettes, rain. She wants him, so badly. But words always seem to escape her.

 

“We gotta do this. We just follow the plan.” His voice brings her back from her cloud of tangled thoughts.

She nods. Knowing nothing is simple.

*****

The day of the rehearsal arrives.

After a couple weeks of back breaking work and calculated moves to prepare the path for the herd, the time has finally come. Collectively they decided to do a dry run, mostly because the Alexandria residents were terrified to deal with an amount of walkers such as this.

In truth, they were all terrified.

 

The sun begins its ascent, and Daryl has been up long before it started. He is eager to steal a private moment with Ali before the day begins.

He finds her sitting on the cool pavement at the opening of Aaron's garage. A cigarette in one hand and coffee in her other. He sits down next to her, their knees touching, and she hands him her coffee. A small affectionate gesture.

“You ready?” His voice is raspy with exhaustion. 

After their watch last night, they spent a long time talking on the garage roof. This had come to be their usual nighttime hangout. Their true selves revealed in the cloak of darkness. Quiet words chiseling away at the shell around their hearts.

She tucks her dark curtain of hair behind her ear, and faces him with a weak smile.

“No. I mean, yes, and no.”

He looks at her quizzically. 

“I know we have been preparing for weeks, and this is just a dry run, but tomorrow, when we do this for real... With a herd that size, I mean, anything can happen. And I trust Glenn, I'm happy to have his back. But Nicolas? He pulls a stunt like he did at that warehouse? I will not hesitate to kill him.” Her mind is already made up, but still, she craves his approval.

He reaches out to gently rub the back of her hand with one finger calming the fire that burns behind her eyes. After a moment, he takes her hand and intertwines their fingers. 

“You and Glenn won't let it come to that. But if it does, you do what you have to do to make it back.”

The gravity of their situation hits hard, and they sit, quiet and contemplative.

Daryl stands, not letting go of her hand, and helps her up. He pulls her close and holds her, stroking the back of her hair.

_I'm here. It's safe._

In this tender moment, away from the rest of the community, they allow themselves true affection. Neither is brave enough to take it much further, though both of them wish the other would.

“I don't want to split up.” Her voice barely more than a whisper in his ear.

“Won't be for long.” He assures her, clutching the back of her shirt. His expression grim.

They stand that way, until the day fully breaks, and voices rise all around them.

Soaking in that moment together, though it were their last.

 

*****

 

“I know this sounds insane, but this is an insane world.” Rick yells to be heard over the cacophony of the dead. “We have to come for them, before they come for us. It's that simple. This is where it all starts tomorrow. Tobin gets in the truck, opens the exit, and we're off. He hops out, catches up with his team at red staying on the west side of the road.”

Ali stands next to Daryl, hypnotized by the sickly movement of the mass of moving bodies.

_“Like being at a concert from hell.”_ She muses to herself, trying to hide her smirk at the funny-not funny nature of her thoughts.

Daryl glances over at her, curious.

“Daryl gets on his bike…” Rick continues.

A loud rumbling breaks their focus on the vital instructions.

“You see that?!” Sasha yells.

One of the ledges that a semi truck rests upon begins to give way. They all watch in horror as the truck topples off the ledge into the sea of the dead below.

“It's open! We gotta do this now!” Rick belts out into the chaos. “We're doin’ this now!”

They scatter.

“Daryl!” Ali calls out. He's positioned himself to stop any walkers that come through the truck barricade.

She jogs over and nearly crashes into him. The world is chaos, but all she can see is him.

“I…” She tries to speak, but nothing comes out.

Instead, he cups the back of her neck and pulls her to him. Their foreheads touch for a minute and he closes his eyes. She grips his forearm in response. This is it, the moment she had been dreading. She's consumed with fear, though she'll never show it.

“I'll see ya soon. Stay with Glenn.” He says. 

And he lets go.

“No, Rick. We're not ready!” Carter yells just behind Ali.

“Well you better get ready,” Ali snaps, voice filled with vitriol “because it's happening now.”

“Sasha! Abraham! You meet Daryl at red, let him take them through the gauntlet.” Rick calls out, ignoring Carter.

“Yeah we meet at red!” Sasha replies as she gets in the car.

“Rick, we'll hit the tractor place!” Glenn grabs his bag, making his way toward Ali.

“Okay, who else?” Rick asks

Glenn's gentle hand grabs her upper arm. She had been standing, frozen, waiting.

“We got to take them out, or they'll distract the horde.” He says.

“I'm here, let me help!” Nicolas says.

“No!” Ali yells. “Not you.”

“I'm here!” He insists.

“Do everything I say.” Glenn gives her a reassuring look as Heath joins their group.

“I will” Nicolas nods.

 

“They're coming!” Daryl yells over his aimed crossbow.

Walkers begin to squeeze through the crack in between the two trucks.

Rick is yelling out instructions, Carter is pleading for them to give up.

Ali catches Daryl's eye. For one split second before she takes off alongside Glenn. She sees something there. Something new.

Fear.

 

_“You’re in love with him, aren't you?”_

 

Yes.

 

*****

 

“Glenn, you have to hurry, that noise could distract the herd right off the road. Talk to me.” Rick's voice comes through the radio. 

“We're here.” Glenn replies

Dead hands scrabble against the windows inside the building. Nails scratching the glass, making Ali feel ill.

“Sounds like a lot.” Nicolas says to Ali, trying to build some kind of rapport, only to be met with a glare.

She had not come to terms with what he did. She had not fought it out like Glenn had.

“We need it quiet.” Glenn says, to no one in particular.

“So what's the plan?” Heath is out of breath from their race there.

“Take ‘em out, a few at a time.”

They run around the front of the building to the doors. Glenn directs Nicolas to step up.

“Nicolas you're at the door.” 

“No fucking way.” Ali scoffs with disbelief. “I'll be at the door.”

“Ali. Give him a chance. He can do it. I need you over here to help us take them out, you're better at close combat.”

“Glenn…”

He looks at her, pleading, and begins to rummage through his bag. 

Ali leans in close to Nicolas.

“You're a piece of shit. One wrong move… if I even _think_ you did something intentionally to screw us over… I'll kill you. And I'll make it hurt. Bad.” She grinds out through gritted teeth. Her thoughts come out in a jumbled mess of rage and fear.

Nicolas stares. He knows how deadly she is. More than that, he thinks of the day that guy she's always with knocked him off his feet when Glenn and Aiden were fighting. That guy, is scary, and he knows if anything should happen to her, he'll kill him.

“Alright, you let two or three out, and then you close it. You keep doing that. That's the trick. That's how we control it.” Glenn explains.

“Wait, what if he can't close it?” Heath asks skeptically.

“I'll be able to.” Nicolas interjects.

“Then we take them on.” Ali replies.

“We take them on?” Heath looks at her like she's insane.

“If we get into trouble, then we go behind the building into the woods and we draw them away.” Glenn answers his question quickly.

“Hey, you've been out on runs since he got here. They know what they're doing. Me and Aiden, we didn't.” Nicolas admits.

“This was supposed to be a dress rehearsal.” Heath laments.

“I'm supposed to be delivering pizzas man. Daryl is leading them this way, and they're closing in. That noise is gonna pull the herd right off the road, and then we have serious trouble.” Growing frustrated, Glenn does his best to help Heath see they have no choice.

“We have to do this.” Ali insists.

“Yeah, okay.” Heath finally agrees.

On the count of three, Glenn pries the door open just to discover there is a metal garage door right behind it. Locked. Just another obstacle in their way.

They move around to the other side of the building where there are no doors, only windows. After some deliberation, Glenn shoots the glass and walkers come pouring out. 

Glenn, Ali and Heath begin firing, but they are quickly overwhelmed by number of them.  
Ali is shooting one, when another gets too close and she begins to grapple with it. Just as she's becoming overpowered, Nicolas comes from behind her and stabs it in the temple with his knife.

She looks at him, and nods her thanks.

One more comes out of the building, and Glenn instructs Nicolas to take it out.

“Good. Let's go.” He says.

 

*****

The task ahead of him is almost mindless. Rev the bike, keep their attention, keep a slow pace, don't let them get too close, keep an eye on what's going on behind him, hit all the rendezvous points. But Daryl can only think about one thing.

Her.

He knows she is capable. He knows she will be fine with Glenn. But, with the exception of the warehouse run she went on, they have been nearly inseparable since they met. This is largely due to their similar skill set and near instant friendship. There was something more though, something he wasn't sure he could even put a label on.

He thinks about her quiet confession. The one Aaron had pulled from her. The one that caused his heart to swell in ways he didn't know were possible. It was terrifying, and exhilarating. No one had ever said they loved him. Ever. And even though she didn't say the exact words, it was the closest to love he had ever felt from another person.

A tiny voice in his mind speaks out, getting louder every minute he is left to wonder about her safety. 

 

_“I want her.”_ It says.

_“Could I love her?”_

 

*****

 

Ali, Glenn, Heath, and Nicolas hurry back to meet Rick, Michonne, and their group in the woods.

“Everyone, we need to finish this.” Rick says upon their arrival. “We have to keep moving and fan out down that thing, front to back. Like we said, cops at a parade. Glenn, you and Ali take the back, you got the other walkie.”

“Got it.” Glenn says.

Ali nods in understanding.

“If it gets sloppy, we fire our weapons, pull them back on track.” Rick explains.

They take their place at the back of the herd, weapons drawn. Quietly following them in the woods.

Until. A horn.

“What the hell is that?!” Ali frantically asks.

“It's a horn or something! It's pulling the back half off the road.” Fear evident in Glenn's response.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

She runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a beast! It had a lot of dialogue, and I really wanted it to coincide with the main storyline. ❤️


	7. Chapter 7

She flies through the woods.

Running alongside Glenn, she ignores the nausea that is building from the exertion.

In this world, you're quick, or you die.

They come to an abrupt halt.

“Try again.” Glenn pants.

“Tobin, it's not stopping. Light it up, you hear me?” Rick has yet to get any of them on the walkie.

Then, she hears him. His voice brings her back into focus.

“Rick! What's going on back there?” Daryl comes through the radio clearly.

“Half of them broke off, they're going towards Alexandria.” Rick answers.

“Towards you?” Abraham comes through.

“We ran ahead. There's a horn or something loud coming from the east. It's not stopping. I'm sending Ali ahead to warn them, she's the fastest.”

Daryl thinks about her, running alone, ahead of the herd. It doesn't sit right.

“I'm gonna gas it up, turn back. I can get her there faster.” 

“We have it, you keep going.” Rick assures him.

“They're gonna need our help!”

“Gotta keep the herd moving.”

“Not if it's goin’ down we don't!”

“The rest of that herd turns around, the bad back there gets worse.”

Daryl's choices haunt him, his next move unclear in his mind.

“Daryl?” Rick reaches out again.

“Yeah, I heard you.” He answers.

Rick stops. He grabs onto Ali's arm and pulls her aside as the others rest a precious minute.

“Alright, here's the new plan. Run home, run as fast as you can. Find Carol and tell her about the herd. Prepare them, in case we're not able to stop it. And hey,” He hands her a pistol. “if that horn is trouble, shoot first, as questions later.”

She nods, unable to expend the energy to speak. She's still a couple miles from home.

He puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes.

“You can do this. Daryl says you're fast and you're quiet. He trusts you… so do I.”

She pulls the straps on her pack hoisting it higher to make running easier. She nods, convincing herself. Thinking of a man that isn't here.

“And, Ali?” 

She looks up.

“Kill anything that moves.” Rick says through gritted teeth.

Ali stares, then turns on her heel and takes off through the woods.

 

*****

“Hey, we gone 5 miles out yet?” Daryl is now alongside the car carrying Sasha and Abraham.

“Give or take some yardage, you got a reason for asking?” Abraham inquires.

“Next intersection, we're gonna spin around and go back. I gotta get Ali, take her home, warn ‘em about the herd.”

“The mission is 20 miles. I have full confidence she can make it back on foot with plenty of time.”

“If you want to turn around, we can't stop you, but without you, they could stop us.” Sasha interjects.

Daryl ponders this a moment. He knows she's right, but he also knows Alexandria’s weakest residents have a portion of the herd coming right at them. And even though Ali will be there to help, it's not enough.

A small part of him is fearful for her. Racing through the woods, energy low, with people running around dissecting bodies, and gutting women and tying them to trees.

Another part of him screams she is capable. She handles herself, she cares for people, his people.

That's why he _loves_ her.

 

“Nah. I got faith in you.”

 

And he speeds off. Sasha and Abraham calling behind him.

 

*****

Mind blank. Legs pumping. Heart pounding. She runs.

Sweat pours into her eyes as her body desperately tries to keep from overheating. 

She keeps her machete out for quick slice-and-run roamer elimination.

The walls come into view. Just push a little further.

The guard tower is half crumpled, smoke is rising from the walls themselves.

“What the fuck?” She breathes. Slowing to make a quieter approach.

“Ali.” Spencer hisses. He holds a rifle, standing at the door to a truck with a trailer. 

The horn. 

She stands there for a second, mouth agape, many things dawning on her all at once, her overstimulated mind pulling the pieces together as best it can.

_“How the harvest gets home.”_

_Oh my god._

“What happened?!” She grinds out, taking note of Deanna in the cab of the truck. Quiet. Staring.

“A- a group. They got in the walls. They're killing people. I've gotta keep mom safe.”

She doesn't answer. How is this happening? How did they find them?

_BAD PEOPLE COMING_

The bloody note burned into her memory.

She turns and approaches the gate. Preparing for battle. Building herself up for a fight.

It doesn't take long for one of them to find her.

A man. Thin. Dirty. With a bloody W on his forehead. 

“Pretty girl. Liberation is the only path for you.” He says, almost stupidly.

She notes his head. It's bleeding and he's been hit with a blunt force.

Ali stands unwavering. Breathe. One. Two. Three.

“No.” she whispers.

And he charges. Storming toward her like a tidal wave. He's sloppy, his reactions are slow.

She steps to the side and swings, machete connecting with his face. And just like that, he falls.

She immediately crouches and hurries to seek refuge between houses.

A hand connects with her mouth, and she tries to scream.

“Shhhh shh shhhhhh.” The voice breathes. Letting her go.

She turns.

“Carol?! The herd, part of its…”

Carol removes the bandanna around her face, and reaches into a small tote bag, producing a pistol. 

“I know. Take this.”

“I've got one…” The revelation of Carol’s brutality still somewhat of a shock.

As quickly as she appeared, she is gone. Leaving Ali to search, rescue, kill.

She moves between homes. Unceremoniously putting her knife in the brains of the fallen.

_“Thats the last fucking thing we need right now. A bunch of walkers inside AND out.”_

She hears footsteps approaching and puts her back to the corner of a house, machete raised.

Turning the corner fast, she almost slices Aaron, who has a gun trained on her.

“Ali! I thought you were with Rick? Are they back yet?” He says, shock and relief all at once.

Rosita is at his side, gun at the ready watching all around them. They are both covered in blood.

“No. Things went bad. They had to move the herd today. Right now. But the horn from that goddamn truck has half of them coming right at us if they can't get them back on track.”

“We have to tell the others.” He breathes. Knowing they're in for a struggle.

Their conversation cut short, by three people exiting the house they are beside. Aaron and Rosita shoot. And kill.

 

It's relatively quiet now. They move stealthily, just in case.

“I'm going to go find Maggie.” Rosita whispers over Ali's shoulder.

She nods, touching her brother’s arm to make sure he heard. 

Together, they stumble through the streets. Making sure residents and attackers alike do not reawaken.

Her adrenaline begins to wear off, and the pain in her body begins to set in.

Aaron stops to pick up a pack.

His pack.

The very pack he was grappling for with a walker when Daryl ended its second life.

The very pack he dropped in the confusion of their predicament at the can warehouse.

She stares, wide eyed, as he opens the envelope with the pictures and gives her a knowing look. Tears welling in his eyes.

She rushes over to him, sitting down on the stoop, and puts her arms around him.

“You should go find Carl and Enid. Make sure the kids are safe.” He says. Emotionless.

“Okay. I'll be back.” She stands, grabbing her bloody machete.

 

She quietly climbs the steps to Rick’s house, knowing startling Carl may cause her to pay with her life.

“Carl?” she says quietly, as she opens the door. 

He appears, holding a rifle, and a piece of paper.

“Everything okay in here? Is Enid with you?”

“She was. But now she's gone.” He says, handing her the paper.

_Just Survive Somehow_

“Shit.” She curses.

They both look towards the counter as a timer goes off.

 

*****

Daryl speeds towards home.

He's realized Ali will keep to the woods, staying off the roads. So the best he can hope for is to beat her there, so she's not alone.

The horn sounded ominous. Sounded like what always happens when they're safe.

People.

_He remembers a hushed conversation, one night on the garage roof. They shared a cigarette, in their usual comfortable silence. Both of them laid back, looking up at the stars. They could see the vast night sky with the absence of light pollution._

_He turns his head to look at her as he passes the cigarette back. She notes the seriousness in his gaze, but before she can speak, he asks._

_“How many walkers have you killed?”_

_Her eyebrows knitted, she thinks._

_“I don't know. A hundred? More or less? It's second nature now, I just do it.”_

_He nods._

_“How many people have you killed?”_

_Her face falls. A blank stare washes over her eyes._

_“Six.” She blinks slowly. Hiding emotion._

_“Why?” He's shocked, but remains stone faced._

_She's a gentle soul in a violent world._

_“It was them. Or me. And… in this world, you're quick, or you die.”_

_She takes a long draw off of her cigarette and stubs it out next to her on a shingle._

_“I've done things. Awful, things. You should know that.” She warns._

_“We all have. And it don't matter to me, what you've done, or who you've killed. You're here. You made it.”_

_He slides his hand over, fingers rubbing the back of her hand. She lifts it to trace letters in his palm._

_JSS._

_Letters that give her purpose. Introduced to her when she found a girl, dirty and alone._

_“Show me which constellations you know.” She whispers._

_“Alright.”_

He comes to a stop. Breathing hard, and looks at the ground.

She's quick. She's strong. She'll make it. He decides.

And he turns to go back to the awful parade of the dead.

 

*****

 

“Let me out.” Ali says through gritted teeth.

“I can't let you go out there.” Spencer insists. He's posted at the gate. He thinks she's weak.

“You let me out, or I'll find a way out, but I don't have time to waste. I have to catch someone. So please, fuck off out of the way.

He moves. Pulling the gate as he does.

“I'm sorry.” She breathes. And takes off running. 

Ali knows where Enid will go, where she used to hide, where she has supplies stashed. The building near the feed store in the next town. She just prays she can track her down before she runs into the herd.

Less than a year ago, she was out here, avoiding the community, when she found a reason to go back.

She runs, thinking of the day when she brought her in.

 

_Ali takes refuge in a tree to reserve energy. She knows it's a few miles back to Alexandria, and she hasn't eaten in a day or two. Trudging through the brush, is a teen girl. She's leaving a stumbling exhausted trail in her wake, and Ali realizes this is the trail she's been crossing the last few days._

_“Hey. Kid.” Ali hisses from her vantage point. “Are you alone?”_

_The girl stares._

_Ali climbs down a few branches and jumps the rest of the way. The girl is filthy, exhausted, nearly catatonic._

_“C’mon. I'm from a community, about 3 miles east. You can get cleaned up, get something to eat, get some rest. You'll be safe there.”_

_She doesn't answer. Just stares._

_Ali starts walking a few paces, before turning around, realizing the girl is not following. She has her back to her. Ali waits._

_“Nobody can make it alone anymore. It's their world. We're just living in it.” Ali whispers._

_The girl turns._

_“What's your name?”_

_After a moment or two she speaks._

_“Enid.” She breathes._

_“Ali.”_

_She turns and begins making her way back home, breathing a sigh of relief when she hears the girls sloppy tread behind her._

_“Hey, what's JSS?” Ali asks, still facing forward. “Your hand.” She clarifies. The letters scraped into the grime._

_“Just survive somehow.” She whispers._

_Ali nods._

_That's what she's been doing her whole life._

 

“You're not going to be alone kid. Not anymore.” She says to herself out loud.

 

*****

 

The sun rises, and the heat along with it.

After a very uncomfortable night in between two trees, she's ready to move again.

She had picked up on Enid's trail early evening, and followed it until dark. She stopped just outside the town. Knowing there was one way out. So if she left, she would see. 

It became clear to her the herd had hit, and she'd be better off waiting until it thins.

She perched herself up in between a couple of sturdy old trees, watching them aimlessly funnel out of the town. Following nothing in particular.

When the flow of them begins to lessen she makes her move.

She keeps to the sides of the buildings. Creeping along as quietly as she can.

Until he hears a noise. A crashing of debris in a nearby building. 

She turns a corner into an alleyway and comes upon a horrible scene. Bodies stacked up. Forever reaching under a dumpster.

And Nicolas.

His body is ripped to shreds. The sight of it causes her to grit her teeth in disgust.

Then she hears it.

Glenn.

He's calling out to Enid, undoubtedly hiding within the building to her right.

She crouches along the side of the wall, waiting to grab her when she runs.

When she eventually emerges, Glenn is close behind her.

“Hey! Enid!” He yells carelessly.

She takes off running and runs right into Ali, who pops out from her hiding place.

“Enid! What the fuck?!” Ali yells, grabbing the girl by the arm.

“Leave me alone!” She yanks her arm away and runs off.

 

“Let her go.” Glenn yells down to Ali. 

He climbs out of a window, taking a fire escape down as Ali waits for him at the bottom.

“You're a tracker, we'll find her.” He says after jumping down.

“I'm not as good as Daryl.” She says to the ground. Saying his name, feeling his absence.

“I don't believe that. At all.”

“What happened to you?” Her voice is raspy from exhaustion.

“Did you make it back home? Is Maggie okay?! What happened?” He asks frantically, remembering what he had been trying to get out of Enid when she fled.

“She's fine. I saw her right before I left. It was people. The ones carving the Ws into roamers, they attacked. Lots of people died. Mostly the ones who couldn't fight. The herd was leaving here very early this morning, but they know, and they can prepare.”

They set off in the direction Enid went. Her frantic movements made for an easy trail, even on pavement. 

He reveals the events of his last twelve hours. Nicolas shooting himself, seeing him torn apart right on top of him, dragging himself under the dumpster and finally, Enid.

“Did Daryl make it back to Alexandria? Last I heard on the walkie he was going back to try and catch you on the way.” He notices the look on her face. Vacant. Fearful. “I'm guessing no. He didn't make it back.”

“I have to go find him.” She panics. “He never came back, at least not while I was there. What if something happened?”

“Hey,” He grips her shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. “I need you, Enid needs you. Daryl is one of the most capable people I know. He's fine. Okay? I know there's something between you, and I know you're scared. But we've all got jobs to do. And the first is to find Enid, and get her home. That's what he would want you to do."

She nods, unable to answer, though his short speech has renewed her energy.

“In here.” She whispers. And nods toward a narrow door to their left.

They enter a small bakery and find Enid looking out the front door, waiting for walkers to clear out so she can leave.

Glenn sneaks up behind her and puts a bloody hand over her mouth, stifling her scream, and pulls her back from the door.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” She asks, then notices Ali. “Stop tracking me! I don't want to be there any more.”

“You're coming back with us Enid. I'm not leaving you. End of story.” She reaches out to gently grab her arm and Enid puts her gun to Ali's forehead.

“WHOA whoa! Enid. Give me the gun.” Glenn says, struggling to diffuse the situation.

“No.” She says through gritted teeth.

“You won't shoot me Enid. I know you won't. Put the gun down.”

She doesn't. 

Ali calmly and quickly reaches up, grabs the gun, and twists it out of her hands.

“You might force me to go back, but you can't make me stay. You're not my fucking mom!”

Enid grabs her pack off the floor and makes her way to the back door.

Ali and Glenn share a look, before following after.

Ali pushes out the back door, comes up behind Enid, grabbing her arm and turning her around.

"No. I'm not your mom. And I'm sorry you lost her, but I still feel responsible for you. You're coming back with us. And if you try this again, I'll send Daryl after you. He's a lot scarier than I am."

"It's true." Glenn bites the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling.

"Why, Ali. Why are you responsible?" Enid's tone softens.

"Because I found you during a really strange and confusing time in my life. You gave me a reason to go back. A purpose. You don't like staying with Olivia anymore? Come stay with me. We can do this. Together."

She looks up at Ali through tear filled eyes. And nods.

"Come on. They need our help back home." 

The three of them make their way back. 

A silent camaraderie between them.

 

*****

 

When they are close enough to see the walls, they're overtaken by the sight of the massive herd, pressing and grinding, trying to find a way in.

It's loud. And it stinks. Even from far away.

They had taken balloons from one of the rendezvous points, to signify they were out there, trying to find a safe way in.

A safe way home.

Glenn releases them. 

As Ali watches the bunch of bright green balloons float, higher and higher, she thinks about Daryl.

It's not home to her unless he's there. 

 

*****

 

“Hey! Get up!” A man cocks a gun in Daryl's face. He's tied up. Groggy from a head wound. “We're moving. Here's the deal. You don't say shit. And I don't kill you.”

 

“I ain't who you think.”


	8. Chapter 8

“We thought you were with them. I'm… I’m sorry.” The man says to the ground.

“Look. I can walk it back down from here, and my friends, they got a car, you can ride with them.” Daryl pulls the brush off of his bike.

The last twenty four hours spent with this man and his wife revealed they were just looking for help.

A way out of a shit storm.

They came from a community that sounded more prison than sanctuary.

Daryl offers what he can, what he would hope someone would offer he and Ali in this situation. 

Asylum.

He asked the three questions. 

They gave him the answers.

 

“If we can find The Patty, we can drive it, at least offer your community something.” The man says.

“What's The Patty?” Daryl asks.

“A fuel truck.” The woman clarifies.

Daryl nods and picks up his bike.

“We knock you over the head, tie you up, put you through hell. Why are you doing this?” The man asks.

“It's what we do.” Daryl shrugs.

“You got a family? A wife?” The woman asks.

“I got someone waiting for me, yeah.” 

He thinks of a woman with raven hair and bright amber eyes. 

 

After searching around a bit, they locate the fuel truck amongst the overgrowth.

They get it uncovered and find the way back to the small town where he lost Sasha and Abraham.

 

He was finally going home to her.

 

Riding with Sasha on the back of his bike felt different, painful almost. 

_Being on his bike is his form of intimacy._

There is only one woman who he has ever shared intimacy.

 

With the man, Dwight, his wife, Sherry, and Abraham following behind in the truck, they race back to Alexandria.

Everyone fears what they may find there.

And as he pushes the bike faster, anxiety clouding his thoughts, a single word comes through the walkie on his shoulder.

 

“Help.”

 

*****

 

“The tower!” Ali calls out.

Glenn and Enid look over in time to see the tower crash into the walls.

All three stand there for several minutes. In shock.

“Walkers are flooding the east wall, that means the west will be the first to clear up, that's how we get in.”

“There's a tree, on that side, I think I can climb it.” Ali offers.

Enid is silent. Afraid.

“Look. Our friends are in there. People we care about. People who care about you. Ali's brother. My pregnant wife. We don't have time to waste, we have to move.” Glenn says, trying to convince her.

“Give it a few minutes. We’ll get a bit closer. See what we can see.” Ali says, gently.

 

When the frenzy clears, Ali makes her way to the tree.

She climbs, then stops. Horror across her features.

“Glenn! Maggie is on the platform. And it's not gonna hold.”

 

*****

 

The last thing Daryl expects to find in the middle of the road, is eight men on motorcycles. 

He and Sasha ride ahead of Abraham driving the tanker, Dwight and Sherry in the passenger seats.

They come to a stop, Daryl and Sasha get off the bike.

Abraham slows long before stopping.

“Hey. We got company. And somethin’ tells me they ain't too friendly.” Abraham says to Dwight as he and Sherry immediately duck to hide in the truck. “You know ‘em?”

“They're probably looking for us.” Sherry whispers.

“Stay in the truck, we can handle it.” 

Abraham gets out and moves over to join Daryl and Sasha.

 

“Well this is great! Going well right out of the gate!” The man on the first motorcycle says. “I was just asking your friends here if they've seen a man and a woman on foot out here, might be carryin’ a large duffle bag. Supplies inside. Stolen supplies.” He speaks directly to Abraham.

“I done told you, we ain't seen nobody.” Daryl grouses.

“I know what YOU said, but I want to hear it from your friend here.” The man insists.

“He is correct. It's been the three of us as long as we've been out here, haven't seen anyone until you.”

“Well ain't that somethin’. Alright. Now hand over your weapons.”

“Why should we?” Daryl asks.

“Well. They're not yours. Your property now belongs to Negan.”

Daryl glares.

“T. Take my man here to the back of the truck, start at the back bumper, and work your way to the front. Oh and don't forget to check for stowaways.”

T shoves Daryl to the back of the truck, and begins poking around.

Things happen fast, as though the world is operating in hyper speed.

He remembers Dwight and Sherry’s bag is back there.

T catches sight of it.

He grabs it, and moves to let the others know.

Daryl punches him.

They grapple for the bag for a long moment. It ends when T stabs Daryl in the shoulder with his knife.

A different part of Daryl takes over when he has to kill. Primitive. Animalistic. He loses sight of surroundings. Loses all sensation and sound. 

There is a threat. And he must eliminate it.

Thinking Daryl is wounded enough to turn his back on him.

T moves to grab the bag again, and Daryl comes up behind him. He reaches up, pulls his head back, and slits his throat.

A cascade of blood comes pouring out as he tries to prevent he body from making too much sound as it falls.

“I'm not gonna kill you.” He hears the asshole in the front say.

Looking at the RPG, a plan makes a connection.

 

_“Yeah, but I'm gonna kill you.”_

 

Daryl pulls it from its case and loads it.

Quickly and quietly.

“Wait. Wait. Yes I am.” The asshole decides.

He takes aim and…

 

Boom.

 

Sasha and Abraham are thrown backwards from the blast, and a cloud of fire and heat are introduced into the atmosphere. 

Dwight and Sherry rise from their hiding spots in the truck, mouths agape, surveying the fiery destruction.

“Bad ass mother fucker!” Abraham exclaims, hooting with laughter as he comes around the side of the truck.

“Bunch of assholes.” Daryl grouses.

Sasha notices his shoulder.

“Did he cut you?… Oh my god.” She sees the gory scene, T and his gaping throat.

“It's nothin’.”

“Let's just… get you home.”

“You don't gotta tell me twice.” Daryl says, handing Abraham the launcher before he walks to his bike. 

Flaming body parts hold their attention for some time before they move. 

 

*****

 

The empty church is a quiet calm amongst the chaos.

Glenn frantically locks the door behind them.

“Look in the bibles, someone could have hollowed out the pages.” Ali says, out of breath.

“What?!” Enid exclaims.

“If people were holed up in here, they could have hidden weapons anywhere. We have two bullets. That's not going to get us far.”

“We gotta find something for her to climb down with.” Glenn searches drawers for something. Anything. His desperation beginning to show.

Ali pulls out several stoles, stepping on them and pulling to test their strength. Satisfied, she begins her work, tying knots that could support weight.

They were doing this. They were going to make it.

 

Enid stops. She sits down on one of the pews.

“Ali.”

Ali quits tying. She turns and looks to the crying girl.

“You said I gave you a purpose. A mission. Something to bring you back.”

She blinks. Listening.

“I had just lost my mom. And my dad. They were everything… and then, there was nothing. All I could see were flashes of my life as I pushed through the woods. Memories of my time with them. I was dying. Then, there was you.”

Glenn clenches his jaw, fighting emotion. Enid's story tugging at his heart.

Ali moves over to her. Putting her arms around her. 

 

She thinks of a baby she never got to hold.

 

It's silent in the church for a beat. Sweat pouring off of their terrified bodies. They share a moment, thinking of love lost.

Remembering the fallen.

"Our purpose now, is to save those that need saving. And right now, they're in those walls." Ali says quietly.

Glenn walks to the pulpit, and pulls out a cigar box with two pistols.

The girls laugh through their tears, energy renewed.

“Let's get Maggie.” Enid chokes out.

 

Night has fallen as they begin their race to the wall.

Glenn first. Enid second. Ali last.

Under the cover of the darkness, they manage to avoid the attention of most of the walkers, with Ali quietly taking out the ones that notice.

They reach their target.

And it's anarchy.

The platform is creaking and cracking as the dead push and grind and shove against the supports.

Maggie is crying. She's terrified.

Stinking bodies shamble, teeth clack, a cacophony of growls fill the air.

“Ali!” Glenn yells. “I gotta draw them away! Enid! Get Maggie! Get her!”

Enid takes off in the direction of the platform, stoles in hand. 

“I'm not leaving you!” Ali screams, grabbing onto his shirt and following close behind.

“Over here!” They shout, making all the noise they can. Pulling the attention away from Enid.

Glenn shoots.

Ali swings her machete.

Maggie screams from the platform.

“Hey! Over here!” Ali screams until her voice cracks. A pack of seven pushing each other to get to her.

“Just go! Just get over!” Glenn yells to Maggie.

Bodies block Ali's view of Glenn. He was right beside her, then he is gone. A pile of scrabbling hands are all that indicate his location.

Ali hesitates. For one second. Trying to find her friend.

She abandons her machete for her pistol, shooting and screaming.

And the sea of the dead with its rancid waves begin to pull her under. 

Hands pull and push. Teeth grind and click.

 

She thinks of a man. The love she never got to give him. Of things that could have been. And, his smile.

 

Bullets pepper the air around her. 

Congealed blood sprays her body.

Her hands over her head, still clutching her pistol, air hits her face as the bodies fall.

She breathes.

She looks up to see Sasha, an automatic rifle in hand. She nods to Ali.

“Could you get the gate?!” Abraham yells down at a traumatized Glenn.

“Appreciate it pal!” He laughs as he continues shooting.

Glenn runs over to pull Ali up before running to the gate.

“Are you okay?!” He yells.

“Yeah… I think so!” She answers.

She hears a commotion to her left and turns to see Rick taking a stand.

Leading the town. Eliminating the threat.

She makes eye contact with Aaron and runs over. 

Back to back, together, they fight.

 

Glenn opens the gate and climbs in the truck with Daryl. 

Sasha, Abraham and Sherry help Maggie and Enid.

Dwight joins the fray.

“What the hell happened?!” Daryl asks.

“I don't know, I just got back. Glenn answers out of breath.

“She alive?”

He doesn't have to clarify. He knows who he's talking about.

“She's alive. She ran to go help the others. We- we can lead some of them away, it would help them.”

“Nah. We get them all together, won't have to lead them away.” 

Daryl backs truck to the lake. 

Releases the fuel valve, and lets gasoline fly.

He climbs to the top.

RPG in hand.

He looks down at Ali. Fighting for her life, fighting for his people.

He takes aim. And shoots.

Fire explodes over the water. The whole thing up in flames.

The dead take notice.

Ali looks up. She sees him. Overcome with emotion, she pushes on. Harder. Faster. Bloodier.

“Don't let up!” Rick yells from her left.

They fight. A battle more intense than they have ever fought. 

For their town.

 

For their lives.

 

*****

 

When the dust settles and the smoke begins to clear, the body count is perceptible. They had taken out the herd. Together.

Everyone scatters, but a large group hangs around the infirmary where Carl rests inside, a bullet having grazed his temple in the discord. 

Daryl checks in on Rick, however he's anxious to be with her.

Outside the door, Abraham speaks in hushed tones with Dwight. He shakes his hand, formally welcoming he and his wife.

Daryl nods to them on his way out of Carl's room, stepping out into the sunlight outside.

He scans the faces of the group and is disappointed when hers is not one of them.

He knows she is alive, he had seen her. Fighting with her back to her brother. She was hard to recognize at first, every inch of her skin covered in gore.

He runs. 

Runs to Aaron's house.

Still bleeding from his stab wound. The stitches could wait. 

Because bold moves are all he knows in this moment.

As he rounds the corner to the garage, there she is.

Battered, bleeding, and exhausted. She stands there, clutching a towel, trying to scrub the blood off of her arms. A blank stare on her face. She looks up with watery, tear filled eyes. 

They look at each other for a minute, almost in disbelief they are standing here in each other's presence. Her face crumples.

A sob escapes her lips as Daryl rushes over to her.

He takes her face into his hands, and kisses her. Hard.

She wraps her arms around his middle, clutching his back while she deepens the desperate and hasty kiss. Tears streaming down her bloodied face.

She is dizzy, intoxicated by the sensation. He kisses her like she had wished he would. The intensity has her clenching with desire. 

He snakes his hands under her thighs and lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist as he carries her to the work bench. 

Tools clatter as he awkwardly sets her down, breaking their kiss. He accidentally bumps more, sending them crashing to the ground as she laughs.

She takes the moment to look into his eyes, and he gives her his shy half smile she had been missing so bad. 

The same smile she thought about as the dead pushed and pulled her under.

He's filthy. Injured. But he's still the most beautiful person she has ever seen.

She brushes his sweaty hair off of his forehead, and uses her heels to press him into her overly excited center. His sweet lust for her palpable in the hardness she feels against her body. 

She gently presses her lips to his, kissing him with a slow but building tempo.

It isn't long before they begin their frenzied pace again, and he slides his hands under her shirt, up her sides, over her breasts.

She works to undo his belt.

She has to have him. Now.

Though the moment was so perfect. So desperately wanted. They are interrupted by a quiet noise. 

 

Someone clearing their throat uncomfortably. 

 

They freeze, looking over to the opening of the garage.

Caught up in the fervor of their reunion, neither one of them had taken into consideration that they could be seen by anyone who walked by. Or that Aaron would likely be coming home soon. But, there he stood, shocked by the scene in front of him. 

Two filthy people about to have sex on the work bench in his garage, one of them being his sister. 

Daryl abruptly backs up, like a teenager caught in the act. He zips his pants and buckles his belt. Uncomfortably looking everywhere in the garage but at Ali or Aaron.

Her face is on fire. Partly with arousal, but also, embarrassment. She gently smoothes her shirt back down and closes her legs, before turning to face Aaron.

“What?” She asks with a hint of snark, as though what they were doing was completely normal.

Aaron smirks, and slightly shakes his head to snap out of his stupor, before moving out of sight to go into the house.

Daryl turns to leave, completely humiliated by the experience.

Just before he walks out of the garage, Ali finds her voice.

“Daryl…”

He stops, turns to face her, and sighs.

“When we do? Ain't gonna be on no work bench.”

He leaves.

And Ali releases a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

A smile creeps across her face.

 

*****

 

Aaron shows Dwight and Sherry to a mostly furnished brownstone.

“You can stay here for now, get cleaned up, some rest, and maybe we can figure out a more permanent place for you to stay… you'll be safe here.”

“Thank you. For- for everything.” Sherry says genuinely.

“And hey, my sister, my partner, and I, we’re just down the street. If you need anything. Ali is probably about your size if you need clothes.” Aaron adds.

“This is more than enough. Thank you.” Dwight says.

Aaron nods, and makes his way home.

 

They sit down on the couch.

She turns to him.

“How long are we staying?”

“Until we find out all we need to know. We turn this community over to Negan, and maybe he won't be so hard on us. Maybe we won't have to work for points. Or, I mean, at the very least, maybe he won't kill us.”

She stares. Feeling the weight of what they are planning.

The gravity of this kind of betrayal. 

“These seem like good people. Strong people. Maybe we could be safe here.”

He stands up and walks to the window. Looking out at the residents clearing the bodies.

Together.

 

“It's only a matter of time before he finds this place. And trust me. Against him? Nobody is strong enough.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo how about a little bit of fluff? Well, sort of. I felt I needed to add a trigger warning in the beginning, as the topic of domestic abuse does come up in this chapter. It's not terribly graphic, however I know these themes can be hurtful.
> 
> Now, onward, character building awaits!

Ali hears her bedroom door open. It's silent other than the change in the air.

She feels a presence in her room.

“Go. Away.” She grouses. Assuming it's Aaron.

Daryl looks over to her chair, noticing her discarded jeans. They've seen better days, holes in the knees and mystery stains, but they'll do.

He picks them up and tosses them on her.

“C’mon. Get up.” He says, voice gravely, trying to be quiet.

She lifts her head, swiping wild waves of jet black hair out of her eyes.

“What time is it?!” She tries to look at her watch, but it's still dark.

“Early… C’mon.”

He picks her pack up off of the floor, pushing her most favored contents from her table inside.

She sits up groggily and stands.

He can't help but notice she's in her underwear. Looking away quickly, he represses his desire.

Two weeks since the wall fell.

Two weeks since the herd.

Since, Jessie.

Two weeks since they almost gave in to their need for each other.

They have yet to discuss the almost sex, but things changed. 

The very air around them is different. 

An unspoken coupling.

 

“Where are we going?” Ali pulls the ratty jeans on.

“Just, somewhere.” He shrugs.

She glares. Tucking her jeans into her socks and pulling her boots on.

“I'm not getting up at the ass crack of dawn for just somewhere.” She says irritably.

He rolls his eyes, swinging her pack over his shoulder. 

“Just get your ass together. We're gonna to be late.”

He tries desperately to hide his nervousness. Wanting to surprise her. To show affection in the only ways he knows how.

She takes care of her bathroom business and comes out to find him waiting on her bed. Crossbow on one shoulder, her pack and bow on the other, and a cross body bag hanging down his front.

“Ready?” He says, giving her his half smile.

She nods. 

Dying inside with infatuation.

 

They push through the woods. 

Daryl, his usual quiet self.

Ali, trudging through half asleep.

She hears him let out a small laugh and make some remark about a damn herd of elephants, but she's too tired to give him a sarcastic response.

The sky is beginning to lighten. Daryl stops at a group of trees and waits for her to catch up.

He pushes the branches out of the way, and they step out into the open.

She hadn't noticed where they were going. Trusting him blindly.

He has led her to a large meadow.

He walks just barely out of the tree line and puts his hand out for her to join him.

She moves to his side. To her, the view is breathtaking.

Lush green forest against an overgrown field of wheat and wildflowers.

Then. The sun.

Orange, red and yellow burst into view over the trees.

She is in awe.

He reaches his arm out, drapes it over her shoulders, and pulls her against his body.

“Is this what you brought me here for?” She asks.

“Mmhmm.” 

“It's beautiful.” She breathes. And he looks down at her, absorbing the sight of her lovely face in the warm glow of the morning.

She catches him staring at her.

“You're missing it!” She teases.

He continues to take her in.

 

“No. I ain't missing anything.” 

 

She smiles up at him and rests her head on his shoulder.

They stand together. Until the sun is fully risen. Neither one bold enough to make a move. 

To make a confession. 

Eventually, Daryl lets go, and turns to go back the way they came.

He speaks.

“I'm not good at this. But I'm tryin’”

She doesn't reply to his admission, just lets it marinate.

 

*****

 

They spend the day hunting. Or trying to. They come up short at every turn.

She watches him, his movements, his mannerisms. They don't speak much, but he meets her curious gaze with a small smile every so often.

 

By early evening, they're on their way back, but still several miles deep in the woods.

The sky is ominous. A storm approaching.

“Where'd you learn to hunt anyway?” He asks.

“I spent some time in foster homes. One of the ‘foster dads’ was a hunter. A tracker. He was weird. But he was nice.”

Daryl nods.

“At least he didn't beat me.” She adds, quietly. 

He squints at her. A grimace on his face. 

What kind of life had she come from?

“I stayed about 6 months. Before my mom got clean and got custody back. They couldn't have their own kids. So they were thrilled when I showed up on their doorstep.”

“She do that a lot?” He asks. “Your mom.”

“Yeah. Well. Heroin is a helluva drug.” She laughs nervously. Sadly. Trying to cover her pain with sarcasm.

He stares.

“I'm sorry.” He says quietly. Heart breaking for that little girl. The girl who makes up the woman he loves so fiercely.

“I made it.” She shrugs. “I'm here. And she's not.”

A loud thunderclap breaks the somber tone.

“We're gonna get wet.” He says.

She starts looking around at the different trees. He notices her touch her fingers across some slashes in the bark on a particularly large one.

“Maybe not for long. C’mon!” She moves away through the trees.

He allows himself to be led. 

It feels good to let someone else do the leading.

It feels good to give her control.

The sky is a deep steely grey and the air is electric from the lightning. It's loud and the rain begins to fall.

“Just a little further!” She yells over the thunder. Wet hair hanging in clumps around her face.

And then, a house.

A shack more like it. A place hunters had used when deep in the woods.

They push inside. A small one room place with a long unused bathroom.

The house holds very few things. A small, dirty fireplace. An ancient and dusty armchair, with matching love seat. There is a heavy old desk and a small closet.

The windows are covered with tarps and horse blankets. 

Weapons drawn, they do a quick sweep. Checking for surprises.

She pushes the bathroom door open with her foot. Bow up and aimed.

But, nothing. 

She turns back to him, looking at her over his crossbow. 

They lower their weapons. And breathe.

“You knew about this place.” 

“Remember, I've got shit stashed all over.” A glint in her eyes.

He looks around.

“Yeah. You're full of surprises.” A smile creeps across his face.

“Stop.” She says, pushing his upper arm.

They look at each other. The sexual energy practically hums around them. His skin is wet and heated, his arm muscles hard from years of fighting for his life. Her fingers slide down his arm from where she pushed him, to his hand. She looks at their hands, gently pushing hers into his. Feeling the electrical pulse at such a small touch. 

Looking up at him, her eyes are warm and dark, her face is still wet from the rain. Lips full and pink from the chill, she pulls them into a smile. 

Suggesting. Inviting.

Lightning illuminates the room. A loud clap of thunder brings clarity to his libidinous mind.

He clears his throat. 

“You uh… got candles or somethin’ stashed in here?”

She turns and moves to the closet.

 

Leaving him wondering how he was going to make it through the night without accepting her unspoken offer.

 

To make her his.

 

*****

Merle had always made fun of him for being sensitive. He made up for it, with anger. He never let anyone close. Never let anyone see him. 

But the death of the last world changed things.

His people changed him.

After the prison, after terminus, after Beth, he had hardened his heart again. 

Then, he had made the choice to try. To eat a simple dinner with relative strangers.

And he met her.

She's staring at the tiny fireplace, at the candles she placed inside.

The glow from their collective flames warm the skin on her face and makes her head feel fuzzy.

She struggles to flip through an old book. A book about plants native to Virginia.

It's too dark to read, but she has to do something.

He struggles to think about anything other than that night.

 

After the herd. Bleeding and desperate. They sought solace in each other. Fast and frantic, they almost gave, and took, and loved.

The desperate way she began to undress him said more than she ever would out loud. The fire in her kiss made him feel things he still has yet to understand.

He had never felt more wanted.

And he had never wanted anyone like that.

But that sensitive part of him screams out. 

She's special. She deserves to have all of him, not just a fast fuck in a garage.

He had been angry at himself for feeling that way, for always being the sensitive one. Angry that he couldn't just lead her upstairs and take what she was trying to give him. 

Herself.

But when he saw her the next morning, showing up at her garage, coffee and cigarette offering in hand she didn't push him away. Instead. She pulled him closer. She had seen his true self, and came back for more. He accepted his feelings, and resigned himself that when the time is right, he is going to love her in ways he doesn't think are possible.

She sighs, closing the book, and looks over at him. He sits beside her, their backs against the old love seat.

“Daryl.”

He doesn't speak, just raises his eyebrows.

“What’d you do… before all this?”

“You first.” The raspiness of his voice sends chills over her body.

Unpacking memories is painful, but she tries to make light of it.

“I was a waitress. At a bar called The Kraken…”

“What?” He breathes a short laugh.

“Yeah, you know, continuing on the family legacy of seedy bar work.”

He watches her speak. Looking at her is addictive.

“But, they treated me alright. It wasn't the worst thing I've experienced. Well and I wasn't a junkie, so there's that.”

Try as she might to remain nonchalant, her eyes are dark, and her mood is sobering.

She continues.

“I was in a bad relationship. Got out of it shortly before the world collapsed. I wonder though… if I hadn't, where I'd be now.”

She remembers a man who she gave her heart to. A man who took the light inside her and left only the darkness to pull her under. 

Daryl notices she picks at her nails. Nervously. He's contemplative, putting what pieces of her life he knows together. Wondering what things she omits out of shame.

He knows that tactic all too well. 

“Now you.”

He looks down. Embarrassed to admit the truth.

“You can talk to me.” She offers. “But, if you don't want to tell me…”

“I was a degenerate piece of shit. Followin’ Merle around. No direction.” He interjects. Trying to swallow the familiar self loathing. Pushing the words out fast, as though saying them quickly will ease the discomfort. 

They're quiet for a while. She can feel him retreating within himself.

“Why'd you wanna know about that shit anyway?” He asks. Defeated. “It don't matter anymore.”

She tilts her head to the side slightly. Shrugging.

He gets up and moves to the covered window, moves the tarp a crack, and looks out. Sheets of rain make it impossible to see. It keeps even the dead from noticing them. 

“He hurt you?” He asks after several minutes.

Ali looks up at him from her spot on the floor. Her eyes are dark and she says nothing. 

He can see her mind churning. She doesn't have to specify in what way. He knows.

She thinks of her head being slammed into a wall. Blood running into her eyes. Shoulder dislocated. Bruises. Tears. Forgiveness asked. Forgiveness granted. Time and time and time again.

And a baby.

She closes her eyes tight with the last thought. Refusing to allow it to fully resurface.

Pushing it back into the darkness. 

She would tell him eventually. But not this day.

He clenches his jaw. Obviously working something out in his mind.

And stares at the ground. 

After a moment, he walks over to where she sits cross legged on the floor and sits across from her. Knees touching. Face to face.

He takes her face in his hands and looks directly into her eyes.

“I ain't ever gonna hurt you.”

She stares.

“Okay?” He presses.

And she nods.

He kisses her forehead and gently moves over to sit by her. He holds her, fully encompassing her body with his. 

She melts into him.

He doesn't let go.

 

*****

 

Daryl wakes. He's still sitting, head tilted back against the cushion. The first thing he notices is the awful neck pain.

The second thing is, he's alone.

Suddenly alert, he sees her pack still beside him, but her bow is gone.

He jumps up, grabbing his crossbow and rushes over to the door hastily throwing it open without even checking what may be out there first.

From the tiny stoop he hears the twang of her bow string, and he runs around the side of the house in the direction it came from.

 

She is there, shrouded in fog, still holding her bow up. He follows the direction she points to see a skewered squirrel on the ground.

He sighs, audibly relieved, and she turns to look at him over her shoulder.

“It's just a squirrel, but, it's something.” 

 

He cleans and cooks her kill while she puts things where they belong in the shack.  
When she returns with their bags, she sits at the small fire to eat with him.

“Daryl.”

He doesn't look up.

“You don't have to be anyone but who you are. You were right, it doesn't matter who you were. Or who I was. We're here now. And that's enough.”

He takes it in. She makes it so easy for him to love her.

 

When he looks up, his face is sincere. His words deliberate.

 

“I meant what I said. You ain't ever gonna have to be scared of me.”

 

*****

 

Rick is waiting at the gate when they return.

“You two get caught in the storm?” He asks as he opens the bars.

Daryl and Ali look at each other. She moves past Rick and heads home so they could talk.

 

“Yeah. Holed up in a hunters shack. Didn't really catch anythin’ though.”

“Supplies are gettin’ bad. I was gonna see if you'd make a run with me. See if we can find anything.”

Daryl hesitates before agreeing. Not wanting to leave her side.

He has to see her before he leaves.

His mind screams at him.

_Tell her._

_Tell her everything._

_Tell her you love her._

_Tell her you want her._

 

He climbs the stairs to her room.

And opens the door.

She is sitting there on the rug. Just sitting. Quietly.

She looks up through tired eyes. Curiosity paints her features.

 

“Ali…”

She looks at him expectantly.

He can't do it. He can't say it.

Instead, he walks over and crouches down in front of her.

She smiles.

 

And he kisses her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spotify users: I've really been into a song by Emma Ruth Rundle, it's called Marked for Death. I was listening to it a lot when I was writing chapter 8, and also this one.
> 
> Check it out for some broody goodness.
> 
> As always. Hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

Two months.

 

Daryl sits in the chair in her room. Trying, unsuccessfully, to fix one of Ali's arrows. 

She pulls on a long sleeve shirt, laughing lightly as he curses in frustration.

He looks up in time to see her pulling her belt tighter.

She catches him staring.

“What?”

“You gotta eat. You're giving yours to the kids again ain't you?”

He had caught her dividing her rations in half to make sure Judith, Carl, and Enid had extra.

 

_“What happens if you fall out while we're out there?”_

_“I'll be alright.” She answers quietly._

 

“Look, they're kids! Their growth is probably already going to be stunted and…” She justifies, trailing off when she realizes he won't be swayed.

He looks down and shakes his head. Exasperated, he breathes a short laugh.

“I ain't savin’ you when you pass out in them woods.” 

“Yeah… but you will.” 

They look at each other, trying to remain straight faced. Ali's smile is the first to break, and he can't help but return it.

“What time is it?” He asks.

“Umm it's just after 8 actually.”

“Shit! I gotta go. Rick’s probably waitin’.”

 

She hates it when he leaves.

 

“Walk with me.” He says, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket.

He gently pushes his hand into hers, gives it a squeeze, and leads her out.

 

As they near the gate, Daryl catches sight of Denise, and calls out.

“Hey! This the drink you're talkin’ about?” He points to an item scrawled on the list.

Denise notices their hands, notices they're together. It may not be something they openly broadcast, but the vibe around them is unmistakable.

“I am, but …”

“It's not medical.” He notes.

“No, but I drew a line between the important stuff and that. I just figured, if you saw it.”

“Alright. You like it, right?”

“No, I don't drink pop.” Denise clarifies.

“The hell’s pop?”

Ali snickers to herself. Everything he does or says deepens her infatuation.

“Oh, I'm originally from Ohio.”

“Soda, Daryl. It's soda.” Ali says, struggling to keep a straight face.

He stares at her a second before turning back to Denise.

“Well, why you want it?”

“Tara was talking about it in her sleep, I think. Either she likes it, or she doesn't, but if she likes it, it'd be a really nice surprise. I'm not good with that kind of stuff. And she and Heath are going on that two week run. I just thought it'd be a nice going away present.”

Denise is awkward around him. He impresses her.

“Just uh, don't go out of your way.”

“I won't.” He moves toward the gate, tugging Ali along.

“Good cause it's not important, really.”

“Got it.” He lazily raises a hand.

 

They stop close to the gate, Eugene stands nearby. Staring.

“You mind?” Daryl grouses.

Eugene suddenly finds the ground very interesting.

He turns to face Ali, minimal space between their bodies, and brings his hand up to cup the back of her neck.

“I'm gonna see you tonight. You want me to just come in if it's late?”

She nods. Since their night in the woods, they had spent every night together, in her room.

Talking. Sleeping. Safe.

He holds her in the night, when the darkness in her dreams tries to claim her.

She is grateful. She feels okay. She has never felt okay before.

“Be careful out there Dixon.”

“Yes ma'am.” His half smile has her aching with desire.

Rick pulls up in the car.

“I'll be waiting.” She gives him a quick kiss on his unprepared lips.

He gives her neck a gentle squeeze. 

And she watches him go.

 

*****

 

The sun is just beginning to rise when she wakes.

Rolling over, she finds Daryl sitting up against the headboard, chewing his nails.

“When'd you get back?” She asks sleepily.

“Late. We found a guy, and I had to keep watch for a while.”

Ali sits up. 

“What do you mean, a guy?”

“Says he's from another community. Cmon, get dressed, Rick and some others are gonna meet with him. Said he wanted you to be there.”

She scrubs her face with her hands before pulling herself together.

 

Walking into Rick's house is uncomfortable. Tension fills the air.

Around the kitchen table are Rick, Carl, Michonne, Glenn, and Maggie. Abraham stands behind them. A man is seated at the head of the table. He has long hair and a beard and is dressed entirely in black.

Daryl and Ali take their place along the wall behind Rick. 

“I checked our your arsenal, I haven't seen anything like that in a long time. You're well equipped, but your provisions are low. Very low for the amount of people you have.” The man is well spoken, calm, collected. “54?” He asks.

“More than that.” Maggie's tone is stern, suspicious.

“Look, we're on the same side, the living side. Our community is a lot like this one, part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. You seem like good people, this is a good place. I think we may be in a position to help each other.”

“Do you have food?” Glenn asks.

“We've started raising livestock. We scavenge, we grow.”

“Tell us why we should believe you.” Rick throws a hand up in mild irritation.

Daryl paces. Ali brings a gentle hand to his shoulder and looks in his eyes. 

“I'll show you, we take a car, I can take you back home in a day. You can all see for yourselves who we are and what we have to offer.”

“Wait, you're looking for more settlements, you mean you're already trading with other groups?” Maggie asks in disbelief.

 

“Your world’s about to get a whole lot bigger.”

 

*****

 

Daryl works on the RV. The small group scrambles to get going.

He looks over to the steps of Rick's house, where Ali cradles Judith. The man, Jesus talks with her, extending his hand for Judith to clasp his fingers. Ali and Judith laugh as he pretends she has an iron grip.

The sight of her tugs at his heart. Her smile melts him inside.

“Let's chew up some asphalt!” Abraham falls out. 

Ali hands the baby over to Carl before joining Daryl at the front of the RV.

“You ready?” She asks.

“Ready as I'm gonna be.” He closes the grate on the front. Then places a hand on her lower back to guide her to the door. He climbs in behind her, noticing his red handkerchief sticking out from her back pocket, and closes the door behind them.

 

Glenn and Abraham share a hushed conversation.

Maggie sleeps.

Ali and Daryl sit at the small table, she leans her body against him and he absentmindedly twirls a bit of her hair around his fingers.

She relishes the feeling.

 

The RV tires hit mud.

“We’re stuck.” Rick sneers in frustration.

Jesus jumps up to look out of the front.

“No worries, ‘cause we're here.” 

 

They file out.

A very tall man-made wall of logs is before them.

“That's us. That's the Hilltop.”

 

Inside the walls is a large, brick, colonial mansion. With its white columns and neat exterior, it reminds Ali of something out of a movie. 

There are trailers and other small structures all around.

Livestock, crops.

Ali looks to Daryl, as he wears a scowl.

“That's called Barrington House. The people who owned it, gave it to the state in the 30’s. The state turned it into a living history museum. Every elementary school for fifty miles used to come here for field trips. It was running a long time before the modern world built up around it.” Jesus explains.

He leads them into the shockingly clean interior.

Ali suddenly feels grimy, though she had showered the night before.

“Good gracious, Ignatius.” Abraham says aloud. Marveling at the massive size of the foyer.

“Most of the rooms have been converted to living spaces.” Jesus says.

“People live here and the trailers?” Rick asks.

“We plan to build. There's babies being born.”

A door suddenly opens, causing Daryl to move closer to Ali out of reflex.

A man in slacks and a blazer walks out, an air of arrogance about him.

“Jesus, you're back. With guests.” He says.

“This is Gregory. He keeps the trains running on time around here.”

“I'm the boss.” He unnecessarily clarifies.

“Well, I'm Rick, we’re from a community…”

“Why don't you all go get cleaned up, hmm?” Gregory interrupts.

“We're fine.” Rick sneers.

“Jesus will show you where you can get washed up. Then come back down when you're ready.” He moves closer to Rick and whispers. “It's hard to keep this place clean.”

“Follow me.” Jesus says. Giving Gregory side eye.

They file up the stairs. Rick speaks with Maggie quietly.

“You think I should get cleaned up?” Ali whispers sarcastically to Daryl. A teasing smirk on her face.

He shrugs. Smiling almost imperceptibly.

“You're clean enough for me.”

She laughs.

 

They wait in the foyer.

Ali looks at the paintings. 

Daryl paces.

Abraham sits, contemplatively. 

“How long you think Rick and Michonne have been uggin’ bumplies?” Abraham asks Daryl quietly.

Daryl shrugs.

Ali's eyes widen as she pretends not to hear. Though it's none of her business, this is news to her.

Abraham stands, and walks closer to Daryl. He glances over at Ali, before leaning in to speak quietly.

“You ever think about it? Settlin’ down.”

Daryl looks at him. Wheels turning in his mind.

He thinks about how easy she is to talk to. The way she holds Judith. The way she is with Carl. The way Enid loves her. He thinks about her smile, her kiss. Waking up next to her in the morning, sun illuminating her alabaster skin, glossy hair shining like obsidian. Though he wants nothing more, he knows this world makes it impossible. 

“You think shit’s settled?”

 

A question as his answer, he walks away to join her, not realizing she heard.

 

Maggie's meeting with Gregory is a colossal waste of time.

His smarmy trade tactics are all hard bargains, no leniency.

He maintains they are doing just fine, despite their complete lack of ammunition and all but refuses to make a deal.

They stand outside of his office, Jesus assuring them it might take a few days, but he will convince Gregory to comply.

The front door opens.

A man, sweaty and out of breath hurries in, as Gregory comes out of the office.

Their group from the road is back.

Everyone moves outside to meet them.

“Nathan, what happened? Where's everybody else? Tim? Marsha?” Gregory asks, worry heavily perceptible in his voice.

“They're dead!” The man, Nathan, says angrily.

Gregory is taken aback.

“Negan?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Nathan breathes.

“We had a deal?” Gregory argues.

“He said it wasn't enough.”

“Was the drop light?” A man from behind Nathan asks.

“No.” Gregory says, sounding like a petulant child.

“They still have Craig.” A woman speaks up.

“Said they'd keep him alive. Return him to us, if I delivered a message to you.” Nathan says.

“So… tell me?” 

Things happens. Fast, and all at once. 

Nathan stabs Gregory.

Rick and Michonne tackle him.

The man who was with them tries to throw Rick off, only to be tackled by Abraham. He begins to strangle him, and in the confusion, Ali is the only one who notices.

“Stop!” She screams and pulls her knife out. She slices the man’s arm above his elbow, in attempt to slow him, to release his grip, to shift his focus.

His fist connects with her face, tearing the skin under her left eye. 

She recoils, hands on her face, unable to see or hear from the pain.

Daryl is on him in an instant, breaking his arm with little effort and yanking him off of Abraham.

He punches him several times, vibrating with rage.

“Daryl! Stop!” Michonne hisses loudly. One arm around Ali, she nods toward her, calling him over.

He gets up, red faced, and stalks towards them. Primitive rage boiling just below the surface. Ali buries her face in his heaving chest, and he wraps an arm around her. The other hand holding a pistol on the man who ruined her face.

Nathan pushes a knife to Rick's throat, daring anyone to make a move. He is distracted by Michonne behind him, hand on the hilt of her sword. Distracted enough for Rick to stab him in his neck, blood cascading down into his face.

The woman who was with them runs over and punches Rick. 

In an instant, Michonne has her on the ground.

“Don't.” She growls.

The town looks on, horrified. Rick gets up and acts as though this is business as usual.

“What?” He sneers, spitting blood out.

Jesus diffuses the townspeople who run over, ready for a fight. 

“Things around here aren't quite as simple as they seem, Rick.” 

 

They gather in the office while the doctor works on Gregory. 

Ali sits on the steps outside. Holding a gauze pad the doctor gave her on her face.

Her head swims, and tears leak freely from her eyes. 

She watches a couple drops of blood from her face bead up in the dust at her feet.

The door opens, Daryl steps out. He sits beside her, shoulders touching. She looks at him expectantly, though he can't look at the damage to her face.

“If we take out Negan. They'll give us food.” He says. 

“When?” She asks.

“Rick wants to run it by the rest of the town. But, soon. Saviors and Negan have been bullying them out of half their supplies since the beginning.”

She looks up to see the group and some Hilltop residents loading food into the RV. Realizing Maggie made the deal, she smiles and nods

“C’mon.” Daryl says, pulling her to her feet. “Let's get you home.”

He stands facing her, and lifts the gauze off of her cheekbone to see the damage. Wincing, he gingerly presses it back down, he strokes her hair, and leads her to the RV.

 

The ride home is quiet. 

They bring one of the Hilltop residents back. The man who unfortunately hit Ali. He is to assist in getting them to the right place. The place where their man is being held captive.

Daryl hovers protectively, in spite of Ali's insistence that she's fine.

Maggie and Glenn pass their sonogram photo around. The final part of the deal she struck.

Michonne passes the photo to Daryl, who considers it thoughtfully, and looks up at the couple.

He thinks about the woman next to him. The mom she would be.

Ali looks on from beside him, running a gentle hand up his bicep. He slides his hand to the inside of her knee, rubbing gently with his thumb. She lays her head down on his shoulder. 

Ali takes the photo and passes it to Abraham on her left.

He notices the way Daryl holds her and it pulls at his heart. 

Looking down at the sonogram, Abraham smiles and looks up at Glenn.

Who nods in return.

 

*****

It's late when they make it back.

Ali is asleep on Daryl's shoulder when they come to a stop outside the gates. He gently wakes her.

“You go on, get a shower, you'll feel better.” His voice is low and gravely in her ear.

Desire pooling in her stomach, all she can do is nod.

He presses a gentle kiss into her hair and gets up to help the others unload.

 

After a while, he goes to her. 

Letting himself in the house, Daryl climbs the stairs to her room, his heart pounds with anxiety. 

 

_“When we do? Ain't gonna be on no work bench.”_

 

He can hear the shower running and the smell of lavender soap drifts into the hallway.

Her door is cracked, and he pushes it open revealing her softly lit room. A small lamp with a maroon shade on her table casts a warm glow. It's dim enough that he feels comfortable for her to see him. 

He knows she has felt them. But having her eyes on his scars is different.

The shower stops.

And his heart goes wild.

He sets his crossbow down next to her table, where he sees the contents of her pockets spilled out amongst some items of his own. A crushed pack of cigarettes, half eaten protein bar, wad of tissue, and his red handkerchief. His sweet offering, she has it with her always. He touches it and breathes out a quiet laugh.

“Oh… hey.

A voice. Her voice. Coming from the doorway, happy to see him. 

He turns and swallows thickly at the sight of her.

Her damp hair hangs in thick, raven waves. Her skin still pink from the shower. She wears a grey cotton robe. It's thin, making him feel both aroused and guilty for feeling so. Her face is bruised and the wound is angry.

The sight of that, is why he is here. He can't wait any longer to be with her.

She moves over near him, and sits at the foot of the bed staring out into her room.

He sits beside her. She smiles awkwardly, having nothing to say, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence. 

She can see the way he's looking at her. She knows what he's here for.

He puts his arm around her, and she holds her head in her hands.

“You know, Rick asked you to go to Hilltop ‘cause he sees you as one of us. The whole group does.”

She lifts her head to look him in the eye.

“Daryl, back in that car, when we were trapped with Aaron, I told you we would fight together. I just wanted you to know that, I meant it, in all situations. No matter where we go, or what we do, I'll be by your side. Fighting. Surviving. Together.”

Her words tug so hard at his heart it's pleasurably painful.

He reaches up and gently touches the bruise on her face. She responds by taking his hand and kissing it gently. The things his hands have done, the violence they have caused, yet right now, she handles them as though they were so precious. 

He pushes stray hair out of her face, and she surprises him with a kiss. Slow and timid, taking her time, lavishing the feeling of his tongue on hers.

She breaks the kiss and moves to straddle his lap. She looks into his eyes as she begins to unbutton his shirt slowly.

Her eyes ask for permission. 

She removes his shirt, pushing it down off of his shoulders in a fluid motion, and bringing her hands softly up his back.

But she stops. Scars. Heavy, raised scars. She had felt them before, but not like this. 

She knows what they're from.

“Daryl…” She breathes. Concern and pain in her eyes.

He looks down, shaking his head slightly.

She catches his gaze again and he lifts his lips up to hers, pressing them in a kiss.

He works on the knot on her robe. Finding his confidence after his secret is revealed, a weight lifted. 

He opens the fabric to reveal a creamy landscape of flawless skin. 

He takes in the sight. Drinking her up with thirsty eyes.

Daryl smoothes his hand down her throat, over her chest, coming to palm her right breast.

And he kisses her. With a new sort of vigor.

Reminiscent of their hurried exchange in the garage, their pace quickens and she works his belt quickly as he kicks his boots off.

He pushes her robe off and to the floor, and she stands to help him out of his pants. 

She takes his hand and leads him toward the head of the bed. Sitting down, she scoots back to pull him next to her. 

They lose themselves in their lips and limbs.

Stroking him to near release, she stops and whispers words to calm him. Words that urge him not to let go until she's had him inside her.

The hold she has on him, is electrifying.

He grabs one of her thighs, pulls her legs apart and settles between them. She grinds her center against him eagerly, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hardness against her.

He breaks their kiss and hurriedly pulls her panties down. Bringing his hand back up, he gently rubs circles over the sensitized nub between her legs while kissing her lower stomach.

She grinds her hips against his hand. Begging.

“Daryl. Please.” She says, breathy with need.

As he settles back between her legs, he stops.

Breathing hard, cheeks colored with the flush of arousal, her hair spills all around her, and her eyes are dark and heavy in the dim room. She is so incredibly beautiful to him.

She touches his face, to bring him back to focus.

“Are you okay?” Her eyebrows knitted in concern.

He nods.

He kisses her.

Then he pushes inside.

A gasp escapes her lips as he slowly pulls back from his initial thrust. He lowers his face into her neck to bite softly as he pushes in again. Slowly filling her, taking in her warmth, and the sweet friction she provides.

Ali relishes the pressure, the fullness, the intense need to have him closer.

She digs her nails into his shoulder and wraps her legs around his lower back as she meets each thrust. Causing him to go deeper until she is completely filled.

The feeling overwhelms him.

The physical sensation. The emotional weight. 

Her breath quickens, and she continues to pull him in as far as he can go. The building of her release is eminent.

He pushes and grinds against her most sensitive area. She bites down on his shoulder to stifle a moan as her muscles contract in quickening waves.

She then increases her pace, contracting her muscles to help him find his own release.

The experience is transcendent. He grabs onto one of her thighs as he shudders slightly and gives a soft grunt. 

She takes him to the edge, and he spills over. Inside her warm, welcoming body.

They lay that way for a moment, breathing hard, covered in sweat. He kisses her neck and collarbone gently. Her body is a live wire and he's setting off every nerve ending with delicious tingles.

She smiles up at him, and he catches her lips with his.

He reached an emotional peak in this experience. 

What scares him most, is he's desperate for more. 

He pulls out and moves to lie down next to her, raising his arm to invite her beside him. She tucks herself in the space, resting against him.

Their silence is comfortable again.

Actions saying all they needed to say.

 

She sleeps on his shoulder, arm draped across his chest, their legs intertwined. He runs his fingers up and down her back with his free hand, moving her hair to kiss her neck periodically.

She has the number thirteen tattooed on her ribcage. And he's hypnotized by the rise and fall of it, as she breathes gently.

 

He wonders how any man could hurt her.

Take her love and crush her spirit.

He lies there for a long time, watching her sleep.

 

Feeling like he's never felt in his life.

Complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then... ;)


	11. Chapter 11

He wakes alone. The thin curtains over the window blow in the gentle breeze.

Daryl sits up, realizing he's still naked, he notices she has folded his clothes neatly and placed them on the chair. He's never spent the night with a woman naked.

He's never spent the night with a woman he had sex with.

Moving to get dressed, he catches sight of her on the roof. She sits quietly, thinking, smoking, watching the sun rise. Zoned out of the present, she replays the previous night in her mind.

His kiss, and the way he touched her. Grabbing her hair and kissing her neck. Her skin, flushed and warm with arousal. With him she reached new heights of physical and emotional elevation. The pressure. Her orgasm, and the way she pulled his from him. The way their unclothed bodies fit together. 

Every night he holds her, chasing away the darkness in her mind. And every night she's grateful for his presence. Last night, he never let go.

A soft smile on her face, she's pulled from her thoughts by Daryl climbing out the window. He sits beside her, and she passes him her cigarette.

“You okay?” He asks, taking a long pull.

“Yeah. Are you?”

He nods. Looking out over the mostly sleeping town. He looks at her timidly, hoping she won't catch him staring. Her bruises are dark clouds over her otherwise pale skin, and her hair is a wild mess framing her head and shoulders. In the grey morning, he's euphoric in her company.

His mind races. Between their mission and their previous night together, he knows lines have been crossed, things are changing. 

Fast.

“We got that meeting after a while.” He says. And her mind comes back down to earth.

“Let's just… sit here. Right now.” She answers softly. Relishing the ache between her legs, and wishing she could respond to the spreading warmth that originates there.

He turns his focus to her, and his half smile does sinful things to her thoughts.

“Alright.” 

 

And they do.

 

*****

 

“These Saviors, they almost killed Sasha, Abraham, and Daryl on the road.” Rick says

Most of the fighters in the town gather in the church. Ali sits between Daryl and Aaron, struggling to focus on Rick's words.

 

She wonders if he's struggling next to her too.

 

“Now sooner or later, they would have found us. Just like those wolves did. They would have killed someone, or some of us. And then they would try to own us. And we would try to stop them. But by then, in that kind of fight, low on food, we would lose. This is the only way to be sure, as sure as we can get, that we win. We have to win. We do this for the Hilltop. It's how we keep this place. It's how we feed this place. This needs to be a group decision. If anybody objects, here's your chance to say your piece.”

The church is quiet. Somber. 

Eventually, Morgan stands. And most everyone turns to look.

“You sure we can do this?” He asks.

“What this group has done… what we've become, what we've learned… yes I'm sure.” Rick answers confidently.

“Then all we have to do is just tell them that.” Morgan counters.

“We try and talk to the Saviors, we give up our advantage, our safety. We have to come for them before they come for us.”

“Where there's life, there's possibility.” 

“Alright, Morgan thinks we should talk to them first. I think that's a mistake, but who else wants to talk to the saviors first?” Rick asks, addressing everyone.

Aaron stands.

Ali looks up.

“What happened here, we won't let that happen again. I won't.” Aaron looks directly to Morgan when he talks. Then he takes his seat again.

He notices Daryl tap on the side of Ali's knee. He hands her a cigarette and his lighter. 

She looks up at him and Daryl nods to the door. Ali smiles.

He marvels at the subtle affection, having not spent much time with the two recently.

He knows Daryl spends the night with her most nights, some of his belongings even coming to reside in her room.

Seeing her, healthy and okay, makes his heart swell. He had stopped his sister from being dragged to hell just a few short years ago. He pulled her from the blackest depths of her beautiful mind. He pulled her out of the self destruction she is all too capable of spiraling into. He had saved her life.

“Well, looks like it's settled.” Rick says, snapping Aaron's attention back to the present. He makes his way out of the church. “We don't all have to kill, but if people are going to stay here, they're going to have to accept it.”

 

*****

 

“They're going to attack one of the compounds.” Dwight says quietly, closing the door to the brownstone he and Sherry share. “Rick asked me to meet with them tonight. He's got some guy from Hilltop who is going to try and draw ‘em a map. I think this is our chance Sher.”

“Dwight…I…” Sherry begins to speak, but trails off.

She is comfortable in Alexandria.

The people are good. Aside from their two month long lack of decent meals, they were doing okay. 

Sherry had been helping Maggie with the crops they were starting. Ali was teaching her to fight. Dwight had been filling in where he was needed, scavenging, keeping watch.

The thought of returning to their ex dictator made her want to claw her skin off.

“We’re safe here. We are.” She pleads. Trying to convince herself more than anything.

“Stop.” He cuts her off. “We are not safe. They're setting themselves up for the shitstorm of all time and we are not going to be caught up in it. We leave after they do.”

“And then what?! Huh?! What the fuck do you think is going to happen when we show up at the sanctuary?” She screams, tears welling in her eyes, emotion exploding from months of repression. She knew this day was coming.

She had relationships with these people, respected them.

Maggie and Ali had become her friends. 

“What am I supposed to tell Maggie? Or Ali?”

“You don't fucking tell them anything. You keep your mouth shut, you go about your business, you get your shit together and we leave.”

“D. If I go back there. You know what will happen.” She says calmly.

“No. I'm going to give him this place.” Dwight holds his hand out placatingly.

Silent tears drop down her face. She knows they aren't safe. She knows. But the decision to betray people who helped them, who they had lived beside for months, is more than she can bear. She questions how it had come to this. And if offering Alexandria would even be an equal exchange.

“Their best fighters will all be gone. Anyone who has any pull around here will be with them. They leave for the outpost, and we go over the wall.” He answers her silent tears.

People were going to die here. And Saviors were going to die there.

 

There is no way out.

 

*****

 

Daryl leaves the meeting.

The man, Andy, from Hilltop drew a map of the compound from what he could remember. Dwight gave them advice as to where the armory would likely be, though he'd never been to that particular location.

 

They secure the armory, and they end it.

 

He walks to their own armory, where Ali works cleaning and preparing guns. 

She's putting pistols back in their case when she feels a presence behind her. Turning around, she sees him.

Leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, crossbow over his shoulder, she smiles at the sight of him.

“Hey.” She breathes.

“C’mon.” He nods towards the door. “It's late.”

She closes the case and puts it back where it belongs. Turning off the tiny light, she joins him in the doorway and together they leave.

 

The tension between them is palpable. Their walk back to her room was silent, yet heavy with unspoken thoughts.

In the darkness of her room, they seek refuge. Feeling the gravity of what they're about to do. Feeling the weight of the lives they're about to take.

In cold blood.

Daryl sets his crossbow down beside the table, and takes his vest off, draping it over the chair they use mostly for their clothes.

“If you wanna stay outside with Maggie…” He begins. Setting his pocket contents onto the table. 

“I've killed before.”

“It's different.” He turns to look at her.

“It's no different. It's them or us. And I'll be damned if it's us.” She stands close. Eyes dark. Resigned.

He doesn't argue. Just looks at the woman before him. Knowing he would go to the ends of the earth for her. 

He can feel the heat coming off of her body. The sexual energy she exudes.

“Just want you to be safe.” He says to the ground, quietly. He's emotional.

“I'm going to be safe. I'm going to be with you.”

She takes his face in her hands, and he closes his eyes. 

Kissing him gently, she unbuttons his shirt.

He removes her belt.

Tonight, they're going to be together. They're going to give and take, and need and feel.

 

After tonight, there's no going back. 

They're going to war and she knows it, whether he believes it or not.

 

In the darkness of her room, she gives him her body.

 

And he gives her his heart.

 

*****

 

The Saviors want Gregory's head. 

So a walker will have to do.

Daryl drives a truck at the end of the convoy. The most capable against the dead are piled in vehicles. They will comb the woods in pairs, until they find one that matches well enough.

Windows down, Daryl smokes, and thinks. He steals glances at Ali. She's leaned against the edge of the window, eyes closed, resting her head on her arm. His crossbow rests across her lap.

The wind blows stray hair that escaped her thick bun, as she rests. She looks peaceful, as though her mind isn't complete chaos.

He smiles and takes a draw of his cigarette. Thinking of the things they do in the dark. 

When they come to a stop, and he nudges her leg with the back of his hand.

She takes a deep breath in, and sits up. Readying her machete as Daryl lays on the horn.

“Alright.” He says. “Let's go.”

She hands him the weapon, and their hands touch.

They look at each other a moment, before climbing out to join the others.

 

In the woods, they are perfectly in sync.

She left her bow behind in favor of her machete, though it's normally her weapon of choice when they're together.

He wears his crossbow on his back. In case they need it.

They kill several walkers, though most are either too decayed or bear no resemblance whatsoever.

“We should head on back.” He says, wiping his knife on the shirt of a walker he recently killed.

“Okay.”

The way she looks at him, sets his libido on fire.

“Don't look at me like that.” He says.

She closes the distance between them, her face like she has no idea what he's talking about.

“Like what?”

“You know…” He puts his knife back in its sheath. “We gotta focus.”

Arousal builds like a freight train inside him, and the best he can do is let it run him down.

“Oh. Yeah. We do.” She breathes.

He looks into her eyes, heart pounding, breathing hard. He grabs onto her forearm, while she moves so their bodies completely touch.

Without much warning, his lips crash into hers and he shoves her back against a large pine tree. Ali yelps from the impact. The pain from the bark sending waves of pleasurable pain through her body.

He kisses her with a desperation she's never felt.

And she's high on the sensation.

She pulls back the waistband of his pants, opening his belt to reach her hand in and grab him. Her strokes are firm and frenzied. He grabs a handful of her hair, and pulls her head aside to kiss and gently bite her neck.

She struggles to keep quiet.

Feeling his release building, she moves her hand to grab his shoulders as he lifts her up.

She wraps her legs around his waist, grinding against him with her overly excited center. One hand on the tree at her shoulder for support, he reaches his other hand up her shirt. He caresses and squeezes her breasts before pulling her bra aside, lightly pinching one of her nipples. She moans quietly, hands tangled in his hair. 

The sounds she makes, the way he's making her feel, spurs him on. He sets her down and turns her to face the tree. She grinds herself into him as he reaches around to undo her belt. He has to have her. Now.

 

“Um. Guys?”

 

They freeze.

They're teenagers. Unable to keep their hands off each other. 

Caught. Again.

Daryl steps back. He zips his pants and buckles his belt before turning around.

Glenn and a quietly laughing Heath stand behind them.

“I uh… we- we found one I think.” Glenn extends the head, holding it by the hair.

“Great.” Daryl says, his tone dripping with irritation.

He stalks off, leaving Ali adjusting her tank top. She leans against the tree, smiling from embarrassment, feeling like she could burst into flames.

“C’mon.” Glenn says, sympathetically, and they start walking, Heath behind them. 

“You guys, uh…” He trails off.

“Yeah.” She answers the question he didn't ask.

“Good.” He smiles at her. “I mean good that you're together, not good that we just ruined your um, moment. Back there.” He stumbles over his words, trying to clarify.

Ali smiles sheepishly and nods.

It feels good to have friends.

 

They walk back in silence. All three laughing periodically.

 

When they reach the road, Glenn gives Rick his contender and Ali walks over to Daryl. He sits on the hood of the truck, smoking. She doesn't say anything, just takes her place beside him. 

He passes his cigarette to her, and she looks up at him.

His half smile tells her everything she needs to know.

 

“We roll out at midnight.” Rick addresses the group. “We attack just before dawn. The guards will be tired, everyone else will be sleeping. We don't like what we see, we head back and make a new plan. We'll keep Jesus in the shadows.”

Rick looks at the faces before him. Tired. Scared. Determined. A range of emotions stare back at him.

“This is how we eat.” He reminds them.

Everyone disperses.

“I'm sorry.” Ali says quietly. “I um…” She breathes out a laugh.

“It ain't your fault.” He says, looking down at his cigarette.

He takes one last draw and flicks it away before climbing back into the truck.

She gets in beside him, and they leave to begin their preparation.

 

*****

 

Daryl gives Ali a gentle shake.

They lay in the dark. Neither of them has spoken for a while, and Daryl assumes she's asleep. Her head rests on his shoulder and, unable to sleep, she instead tries to calm her anxiety by listening to his heart.

“I'm awake.” She whispers.

He unwraps his arm and sits up on the side of the bed.

She looks at his scars in the darkness, brows pulled together. Her back hurts looking at them.

She’s been beaten senseless by a tyrant before.

He looks at her from over his shoulder. She leans back against the headboard, chewing her nails in contemplation.

The bed sheet is gently draped up over her breasts, and the rest of her skin glows silvery in the filtered moonlight. Her hair is loose and disheveled, her eyes are dark, and expression grim.

He pulls his pants on, and stands to buckle his belt.

Just looking at him makes her emotional. She's never loved like this before.

Sighing, she pulls herself from the bed to dress, and he can't take his eyes off of her.

“I'm gonna be right there with you.” He says quietly.

“I know.” She pulls a thin, black long sleeve shirt over her head. 

“This will be over. Tonight.”

She pulls her pants up and looks to him, expression deadly serious.

“It won't. Nothing is this simple.”

He sits quietly. Watching the way she pulls her hair into a thick bun on her head, the curtain of hair no longer hiding her pained expression.

She opens up the floorboard where her pistols hide, handing him one, and hiding the other in her waistband. 

She grabs her small pack and moves to the door. Daryl blocks her exit, and she doesn't try to move around him. His hand circles her bicep and she closes her eyes.

“I hope you're wrong.” He rasps.

He opens the door, and they leave the solace of the bedroom behind.

 

He believes this will be their last fight against the Saviors.

She believes this will be the first of many.

 

But, together, they know they will fight to the death to protect each other.


	12. Chapter 12

In her dreams, she's a monster.

_Every door has a 4 on it. And her hands are smeared with blood that she can't quite wipe off._

_Fluorescent lights flicker and hum overhead, and she sees the others talking, but the only sound she hears is the hum._

_Daryl is by her side, and she looks to him before she ends them. One, two, three, four men. Four lives snuffed out by her own hands._

_At first she's afraid. And then she feels guilty. But after the fourth, she's powerful._

_Invincible._

 

Ali's eyes open abruptly and she looks around her darkened room. Daryl is still asleep, his back to her, but she knows he woke when she did. He barely sleeps, and has been on edge since the outpost.

He's just waiting to see what she's going to do.

Feeling dehydrated, she sits up and moves to get out of bed as quietly as she can. Her thighs feel bruised and her pelvis aches. She looks over to him, still lying there quietly. Scratches on his shoulder become more visible as her eyes focus, and she brings her hands up to scrub at her face.

An empty bottle of Jameson on her table jogs her memory.

They had gotten into her stash. And they had fucked. Hard.

She hasn't been doing well since their attack on the Savior outpost.

She hasn't been doing well since Dwight and Sherry went missing.

_She pulls the bottle from the highest shelf in her closet. Daryl is still on watch, so she decides to drown some demons while he's gone._

_She sits on the roof smoking and drinking directly from the bottle she hides behind her back._

_She took lives like they were nothing. And she's afraid of herself._

_Daryl paces the watch post._

_He knows she's strong, but she's trying to hide how much their ambush affected her._

_She killed four men in their sleep, then several more in a shootout. He had been there alongside her. Shooting. Killing. Adrenaline burning up their insides._

_He had never been more confident of their power. And he had never been more turned on by her. He shares her conflictive feelings._

_Aaron had given him gentle warnings._

_“She does this. Internalizes. Then it all comes exploding out. Maybe she'll talk to you though.”_

_As soon as his replacement arrives, he is fighting the urge to actually run back to her._

_She had given up smoking on the roof in favor of the chair. She had dragged it over to the window, knocking over books and their belongings. She sits with her feet up on the windowsill, and ashes her cigarettes into a glass balanced next to her. The bottle, between her legs._

_When the door opens, she knows it's him. And he smells the alcohol immediately. Growing up with an alcoholic father, the smell was unmistakable._

_“Ali. What are you doing?” He asks, stepping over the books and clothes to get a look at her._

_She stays put, her back to him, nonchalantly taking a drag off of her tenth cigarette and exhaling._

_“Whatever. The Fuck. I wanna do.” She slurs her words, putting emphasis on the word fuck. “Because. I’M alive.” She finishes._

_He closes the distance between them, taking his place to face her as he leans against the window pane. Her eyes are red, and dark circles reside underneath them. Her hair is a halo of darkness and, in her current state, she looks absolutely insane._

_“I told you to stay outside with Maggie.” He says quietly, as he reaches between her legs to take the bottle. He takes two large gulps as he waits for her to speak._

_But she doesn't._

_She looks up to see him drinking more, and sits up to take the bottle back._

_“Hey!” She says, reaching up to swipe the bottle, and completely missing._

_“You had enough. You tryin’ for a hangover?”_

_“I'm not gonna get… that.” Her usual articulate speech completely eliminated by her state of inebriation. “Give it back!”_

_She stands, stumbling a bit._

_The warmth of the whiskey fills his insides as his head begins to swim a little. It's been ages since he's had any. Turning the bottle up, he swallows what's left before she can reach him._

_“God… damn it Daryl!” She yells as she yanks the empty bottle from his hand, letting it slip out of her hands with a loud thunk onto her rug._

_They stare at each other._

_“Tell me. Please.” He begs, no louder than a whisper._

_He's been asking what she's thinking, and she's been shutting him down. He knows this game all too well._

_Repressed feelings are his specialty._

_She moves over to him unsteadily and grabs onto his waist, pushing him back to her table. He sits back on it hard as she kisses him roughly. She tastes of whiskey and desperation, and he can't get enough._

_As she straddles him, her pack slams into the lamp sending it to the floor and it's suddenly dark aside from the moonlight. Grabbing onto her thighs, he pulls her closer as she grinds herself against his hard on. She breaks their kiss and pushes his hair out of his eyes._

_She wants to tell him she loves him. She wants to tell him he is everything._

_But she kisses him instead._

_He pulls her tank top over her head. She pulls his shirt apart, and grips his shoulders hard as she kisses and bites at his neck. He tries to stifle a groan, feeling embarrassed at his intense arousal. But her assertiveness in this moment erases all other thoughts and all he can focus on is her._

_The hold she has on him scares him to death._

_He snakes his hands under her and lifts her up as he stands and he lets her down hard on the bed. As she works at his pants, he tears her panties in half, earning a yelp and a laugh out of her._

_He pushes in hard, and his hip bones slam into her groin as she lifts her pelvis off the bed to meet each thrust._

_She doesn't even feel the pain. Just pulls him as deep as she can. As close as she can._

_She's loud and uncaring if anyone hears. His breath is quick and frantic._

_They push and pull. Rough. Hard. Fast._

_And she would do anything to never let him go._

 

Reaching down to touch her bruised thighs, she stands. And the room spins. 

After a mad dash to the bathroom, she vomits the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Warm hands pull her hair out of her face, and the coolness of the bathroom comforts her.

He's crouched behind her, and she sits back against him as she flushes the toilet.

“Too much booze.” He says as he smoothes her hair back.

“I'm a fucking idiot.”

“Nah. You're just workin’ some shit out.”

He stands and moves to turn the shower on. His absence a cold shock against her back. And she looks up at him through bloodshot eyes.

“C’mon.” He says, reaching down to help her up. Then he pulls her large shirt over her head, to find her naked underneath.

He helps her in, removes his boxers, and gets in behind her.

Holding her to his chest, with a hand steadying himself on the wall in front of them, he speaks.

“You ain't alone. You ain't ever gonna be alone. Drinking yourself to death ain't gonna help.”

“You were right.” She croaks, throat dry and painful. “It is different.”

He doesn't speak. He doesn't gloat. Just holds her. 

Until she feels okay enough to come out.

 

*****

 

She wakes a couple hours later, and immediately reaches over for him. She sits up when she finds the bed empty, and groans as she brings her hand to her forehead.

The light coming in the window tells her it's still early, and she looks to her chair to find some clothes laid out and a note.

She gingerly walks to grab it, carefully avoiding jostling her brain.

_working on the bike  
hope you feel better_

In spite of the pain in her head, she smiles.

Dressing very carefully, she makes a mental note to ask Daryl about the sex. Though he had cleaned up a bit while she was asleep, the chair was still where she had left it, and her lamp was still on the floor.

 

Daryl sits on the porch step talking with Carol when she finally emerges.

“Here she is.” Carol says, turning to look back at Ali, who closes the door behind her. “Daryl says you weren't feeling too well.”

“It's uh, just a bad headache I think.” Ali looks to Daryl, who shrugs just slightly. She moves past them, down the steps and looks back. “I need to go talk to Denise really quick. I'll be right back though.”

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, totally fine.” She waves her hand behind her lazily and makes her way down the street.

 

She passes Rosita and Spencer having a heated conversation, earning her a glare from the former. She raises her hands in surrender and presses on to the infirmary.

She knocks twice before Denise answers.

“You know, I was just about to come find you.” Denise says. “I need your help with something.”

“Can I ask you a question first? Well, more like a medical request. No questions asked.”

“Um. Sure.” Denise adjusts her glasses nervously.

“Do you have the Depo shot here? Or birth control of any kind?”

“N-no, but…”

“I'm not supposed to be able to get pregnant. But. I just think… You know what, I don't know what I think. Forget I asked. Please.” Ali turns to leave, face hot with embarrassment.

“I know where you might be able to get some. If we find it, I'll give you the injection.” Noticing her flushed face, Denise lowers her voice. “No one has to know. About you and Dixon, I mean.”

“Well… where?”

“Actually, I think I need both of you for this one.”

They walk back towards where Daryl had been working on his bike and end up running into him halfway.

He looks at Ali expectancy and she returns the look with a nod in Denise's direction.

 

“Okay so, I need help. I remembered a place I saw when I left D.C. In this little crappy strip mall, I saw a store called Eddison’s Apothecary and Boutique. It's just a little gift shop, but if it's really an apothecary, they had drugs.” 

“Well, how do you know they still got ‘em?”

“It isn't that far, and I just wanted to check. You and Ali aren't on watch today, and I know you'd probably prefer to go together. So…”

“We'll go.” Ali answers, making eye contact with Daryl.

“I mean. I wanted to check.” Denise counters timidly.

“How much time’ve you spent out there?” Daryl asks?

“None.”

“No way.

“I can ID meds. I know how to use a machete now. I've seen roamers up close. I'm ready.”

He turns to Ali.

“You good with this?”

“Not at all. But she has a point, we know next to nothing about pharmaceuticals.”

Denise looks back and forth between them expectantly, as Daryl and Ali stare each other down. She watches how they work it out without words.

“Alright. We go get our stuff and meet back here in 30.” He answers, finally.

Denise smiles and turns to hurry back to the infirmary.

“Why’d she ask you about this anyway?” He asks as they walk back to their room.

“We're doing each other a favor.” Ali answers cryptically.

“Look, you've been kinda messed up lately. And last night? I know if I'm hurtin’, you gotta be.” Ali stares at the ground as they walk. The last thing she expected was for him to bring up their drunken sex acts. She figured she'd be the one to awkwardly address it later. “I just wanna make sure you're okay. That you'll be okay out there no matter what we come across.”

“I'm fine Daryl. I'm… I’m sorry about last night. And I'm sorry you're hurting.”

He gently grasps her elbow.

“You can talk to me, but I ain't gonna pry. You don't gotta let shit eat you up inside.”

She gives him a weak smile as they begin to prep their weapons.

 

*****

 

“What do you think happened to Sherry and Dwight?” Denise asks from between Ali and Daryl. He drives an ancient pickup truck with the three of them crammed into the bench seat. Ali and Daryl at the doors for easy exit in case of trouble.

“I don't know.” Daryl answers, his mind obviously miles away.

“But like, why?” Ali leans forward to get his attention. “I mean I was helping Sherry learn to defend herself. Dwight seemed to be fitting in okay. It doesn't make sense.”

He shrugs, suspicious, however not putting a ton of thought into the issue. But Ali can't let it go.

“Daryl.”

“Yep. I see it.”

The road is blocked by a fallen tree. Too much for them to try and move on their own. So now, they walk.

Denise and Daryl talk periodically. Ali hangs back. 

She can feel him looking back at her over his shoulder. As though he's checking to see if she's disappeared. What she can't seem to wrap her head around, is the disappearance of Sherry. Sure, most of their things had been gone, but why would anyone abandon a safe haven. The very thought stuns her, as abandoning safety had been her thought process before.

Before him.

 

“Hey” Daryl calls back, quietly. Ali looks up.

A white, brick, strip mall is ahead of them. A cell phone store, a music store, car insurance agent, coffee shop, and the apothecary.

Swallowing any anxiety, she steps forward to join Daryl.

“Alright, me and Ali go first. Keep an eye out behind us. Don't need any surprises.” He tells Denise.

She nods and looks around.

They approach the long building as quietly as they can when something grabs Ali's attention.

“My god” She whispers to herself.

Daryl looks over raising his eyebrows in question. 

She just points.

Somehow he didn't see them. Disgusting parts of this world hardly stand out to him anymore. All along the front of the apothecary are bloody handprints. They taper off in front of the coffee shop and the car insurance office, but the bulk of them are there, in this one spot.

They probably chased someone in there.

Ali places her hand on the door to steady it for Daryl to pry it open. Once free, she holds the door, ready to open on his command. He nods to her from behind his crossbow, and she quickly and quietly swings it open.

She raises her machete, and enters behind him.

The store is small, dark, dusty, and deathly quiet.

It doesn't take long for them to determine there are no immediate threats, and they begin their work prying the sliding metal door that covers the pharmacy open. As soon as the door is up, they realize this place is entirely untouched. Daryl helps Ali over the counter before climbing up himself.

She smiles at him who returns it with a nod. Starting at opposite ends, they work filling their bags. 

Ali finds the vials of the birth control she's after, along with some fresh needles, and a couple pregnancy tests. She looks up to make sure he's preoccupied before hastily shoving them in her bag. 

A thudding catches their attention. Daryl looks up from his aisle and immediately makes eye contact with Ali. And Denise moves closer to the counter.

“Sounds like it's stuck.” Daryl shrugs, and they go back to their collecting.

“I'll get it.” Denise offers.

“Don't. It's caught, it's not going to get out of that closet, just leave it.” Ali assures her, then goes back to her work.

She zoned out while pulling bottle after bottle of antibiotics into her bag.

Her mind is on the people she killed.

Her mind is on her missing friend.

Her mind is on Daryl.

A door slamming into the wall, and Denise darting out of the store retching catches Ali's attention, and she's over the counter in a second with Daryl behind her.

Slowly and quietly, she enters the small closet. 

An incredibly decayed walker with a lower leg cast sits against a wall. It bangs it's cast against the baseboard as it tries unsuccessfully to get at her. 

“Jesus Christ.” She whispers to herself.

Scanning the room, she sees a playpen with baby toys and clothes. But no baby. Ali scans her flashlight up the wall. Written all over is _HUSH_ in red crayon, leading to a utility sink filled with brown rotten water and a baby shoe floating on top.

She gasps, bringing her hands to cover her mouth, and stumbling backward into Daryl.

He grasps her shoulders and turns her to face him.

“You go on. Grab your bag and check on Denise.”

All she can do is nod.

 

Denise sits on the curb outside. She turns a keychain in her hands over and over again in an anxious loop.

The door clicks open and Ali sits beside her.

“I know. I shouldn't have come. But how else do you become brave, if you don't face it head on?”

“I'm not brave.” Ali says quietly.

“But you are.” Denise counters.

Ali breathes out a disbelieving laugh.

“I can't even tell the man I'm in love with, that I love him. I can't even tell him that I came here for birth control. I can't even tell him… that I've been pregnant before.”

Denise looks at Ali and gives her a weak, empathetic smile. They're silent for a moment.

“Im sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all of this…”

Denise clears her throat.

“I won't say anything. But I think you should tell him, everything. He's in love with you. It's obvious.”

Ali nods, looking at the ground. Her heart beats a little faster with Denise's admission.

“You are brave Denise. You just don't know it yet.”

The door behind them opens and Daryl steps out.

“You okay?” He asks Denise, and she answers with a nod. “You did good finding this place.”

He helps both women to their feet and they begin the trek back.

 

Daryl didn't want to take the train tracks. 

He told Ali about Terminus one night in bed. The things he saw there, the death he faced. He told her about Joe and the claimers. About Beth.

She had put her hand over his and just let him talk. 

That was one of his favorite things about her, that he could just talk to her and she would just listen. She hung onto every word like they were the last she'd ever hear. He felt important. Loved.

But the tracks were quicker, and it was already getting late.

They had been playing Ali's favorite game. “I know what you need”. Mostly Denise and Ali, but Daryl would join in begrudgingly after grumbling that travel games are stupid.

“Alright Ali, I know what you need.” Denise says with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah?”

“A drink. The alcoholic kind.”

Ali laughs.

“Oh Jesus no. I'm never drinking again after last night.”

“Aww come on, never say…”

A silenced bullet whizzes by Ali's side and hits Denise in the side knocking her down, and Daryl does his best to catch her.

Ali slings her rifle off of her shoulder fast, and whirls around to see four men with guns raised.

And Dwight.

“I don't think so Ali. Put the gun down.” He says, his still trained on her.

She glances over at Daryl, his face is mostly hidden by his rifle, but she can see the shock.

“Why? Why did you shoot her?” Ali yells. “She's a fucking doctor! And she didn't do anything!”

“Well. I wasn't aiming for her. See, Daryl here killed a group of the boss’ guys, so the boss wants you dead. You know, an eye for an eye and all that. So. Get over here. On your knees.”

Daryl is fuming. Vibrating with rage and terror. But Ali looks at him calmly.

She hands Daryl her gun and he grabs her arm.

"Oh and by the way, Negan knows what you did to that outpost." Dwight sneers, calling over to where they stand.

“You ain't doing this.”

“Just be ready.” She whispers and kisses his lips.

“We ain't got all fuckin’ day” Dwight grouses, shifting from one leg to the other.

Ali walks over to Dwight and looks him in the eye.

“We helped you. And your wife. She was my friend…”

“I said on your knees.”

She kneels down and sits back on her heels, placing her hands on either side of her legs to steady herself.

“Alright Daryl, I'm guessing you're probably pretty confused at this point. I work, for Negan. When Sherry and I left, we thought we would actually make it, we thought we could make a new life for ourselves. But seeing what you all are going through with Negan made us realize, there's no winning against him. You are mismatched. So, I told them where to find you all in exchange for our safety. We've been watching your little town for a few days now. When you were working on your bike, we were watching. When you were on watch, we were watching you. When you were fucking your girlfriend last night, we were watching, and let me say, that was a helluva show. You might want to invest in some blinds, now you know them trees have eyes..." 

He stops short and screams in pain. 

“Stupid bitch!” Dwight roars.

Daryl looks down for a split second to see Ali holding onto a knife buried in Dwight’s thigh. The knife she keeps down in her boot.

He immediately starts firing on the men behind Dwight, killing three of the four. The last one shooting at Daryl and missing before taking off.

Ali yanks her knife out and, aiming for his kidneys, loses her balance on her knees and slashes at the backs of his legs as he takes off.

Daryl takes off after him.

“Wait! Daryl, stop!” Ali screams, and he struggles to slow and stop himself. “Let him go, we're fucked anyway. Please just help me with Denise!”

She crouches next to her, finding a pulse, and pressing her hands down hard on the wound.

Daryl says nothing. Just picks up her gun and bag and hands them over along with his bag so he can carry Denise back.

 

Sweat pours down Ali's face from the exertion of the bags and weapons weighing down her thin frame. They walk in silence aside from the occasional grunt from Daryl as he re-adjusts Denise's weight.

 

They get her back to the truck. When they're all in, a sob escapes her and she swallows down the rest.

There's no time for fear.

Daryl just stares.

He starts the truck, and Ali jumps when he begins violently beating the steering wheel.

“Daryl.”

He punches the dash, splitting the skin on his knuckles.

“Daryl!”

“You were right! I didn't listen and you were almost executed!” She can hear him fighting tears as he yells at her.

“It doesn't matter!” She reaches over Denise and puts her hand on his forearm.

“God fucking damnit!! I should have killed that fucker when he tried to take my shit in that forest!” He yells as he hits the dash one more time.

“Daryl, we have to get back, Denise is still bleeding. And we have to warn them.”

 

He puts the truck in reverse and turns around roughly.

“It does matter.” He says after a moment, still breathing hard through his rage.

“What does?” Ali asks, looking to him in the darkness.

 

“You.”

 

They race home. Hearts in their throats wondering if they'll have a home to go back to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> Just thought I would clarify that though Ali was looking at items related to pregnancy, fear not! This will not be a fluffy, she gets pregnant, and everything will be happy and awesome fic. This is The Walking Dead universe after all and things suck probably 90% of the time. Also, that being said, yes they do frequently have sex, but I feel this is a normal organic reaction to being in a new relationship and also head over heels in love with someone. I still try to stay true to Daryl's behaviors/mannerisms while also developing new mannerisms as he reacts to his feelings for Ali. So there's that.
> 
> Hope you're enjoying it, let me know!


	13. Chapter 13

“It was just a graze.” Ali says as she holds a bloody hand back to Daryl.

He somberly hands her a gauze pad, and she tapes the wound up, feeling confident in its clotting after holding pressure for so long. 

“Rick wants to talk to you.” Rosita says, as she hands Ali a wet rag, and takes her place in a chair alongside Denise. “I'll keep an eye on her.”

Ali takes the rag, struggling to wipe the sticky blood off, and follows Daryl to the door.

“Thanks.” Ali says weakly.

Rosita nods.

 

They move out into the cool night. The air is electrically charged. And Ali suddenly feels naked, as though all eyes are on her. 

They probably are.

Rick meets them at his porch looking incredibly angry. He paces with one hand on his hip and Ali fears him.

“What happened?” He grinds out when they're close enough to hear.

“We were ambushed. Dwight and four others. He tried to shoot Ali from the trees as payment to Negan for me killin’ them bikers. He missed and hit Denise instead…” Daryl says.

Ali can tell he's struggling to keep his cool, every ounce of his energy going into not exploding.

“He tried to execute me. Had me down on my knees. I keep a small knife in my boot when I'm out there, so I stabbed him. It was enough to distract them and Daryl killed most of them, but Dwight got away.” Ali says to the ground. The way Rick looks right now making her incredibly uncomfortable.

“They been watching us. Dwight gave up our location, so they know our every move. Little weasel bastard did it to try and save himself.” Daryl grits his teeth at this admission. Ali knows he's humiliated.

“Nobody goes anywhere. And if they show up here, we'll try and strike a deal. We're not gonna let them win, not after all we've been through.”

Ali turns to walk away, leaving Daryl and Rick to talk

She trudges back to Aaron's house and up to her room. On the way to her door, she stops at a small closet and grabs two flat sheets, which she immediately covers her windows with.

Just doing so makes her feel dirty. The thought that people were watching them makes her sick.

She punches the wall next to the window they use to smoke, causing a dent and breaking the sheet rock where her middle knuckle protrudes just slightly more.

Looking down at her red and purple hand, she flexes it and relishes the pain. This day had brought out the monsters in her.

She showers quickly and lies down in bed, grabbing Daryl's pillow and hugging it to her.

It smells of him. And, closing her eyes, she flexes her bruised hand under the pillow.

She feels the weight of the bed changing. Realizing she must have fallen asleep, she releases Daryl's pillow to him and scoots over as he pulls her to him.

“I'm sorry.” He says quietly.

And she holds him tighter.

 

*****

The morning is grey and dark. Angry storms had rolled in overnight, and Ali hoped it had dissuaded the Saviors from stalking them.

She hardly slept, but eventually found some rest while pressed into Daryl's back.

Still hazy from sleep, a sharp intake of breath from Daryl causes Ali to jump and sit upright.

“Are you okay?” She asks quietly, as he sits up quickly scrubbing at his face.

“We gotta get ready, maybe we can get you to Hilltop. Be safer there.”

“We can't leave. They're watching us, and if they see me go there, it'll bring the wrath down on our only potential safe place.”

He clenches his fists, and she can see the rage just below the surface.

“So you wanna just sit here and wait for them to come get you?” He asks through gritted teeth.

"But Rick said..."

"I don't fucking care!" He yells. "I'm not gonna lose you!" 

“I don't know what to do.” She says quietly. 

“Get dressed, we’re gonna go see Rick.”

“Daryl, I…”

“Don't.” He interrupts her as he angrily dresses.

She gets up and pulls her pants on, and he watches as she retreats within herself. The icy grip of guilt dominates his mind and he stops.

He walks over and pulls her to him, smoothing her hair as she buries her face in his shoulder.

“We're gonna figure out what to do. I ain't gonna let anything happen to you.”

 

They make their way out to the common area, the locations of Reg and Pete’s deaths that seem like ages ago. Rick addresses most of the community. He's already speaking as they walk up.

“Carol, is missing, and Morgan has gone after her. Nobody else goes in or out until we figure out our next move. Daryl, Ali, and Denise were ambushed yesterday and Denise was shot. She's gonna be okay, but the Saviors are watching our every move. Should they show up here, if you are not confident in your combat abilities, just get to your houses, the less people having contact with them, the better. I'm gonna try talking to him, gonna try to make a deal.”

“Who's him?” Glenn asks.

“Negan. Rick says. That uh, wasn't him at the compound. 

“Well shit…” Abraham speaks out.

 

The sound of heavy vehicles permeates the fearful silence around them.

Four large trucks pull up to the gates.

“Go! Rick yells.

Most of the residents scatter, hiding in their houses.

Only the fighters remain, and they make their way to the front.

Ali grabs Daryl's hand and squeezes hard. He looks at her, the terror in her eyes causes his heart to shatter. 

She jumps at the sound of a loud banging on the bars of the gate and her focus on Daryl is broken.

The tarp over the gate reveals the silhouette of a man with a bat. The shadow of barbed wire around the top of it tells Ali that they're completely fucked. He hits the gate again.

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!” An oily voice calls out and Ali's skin crawls.

She looks at the faces around her.

Daryl. Aaron. Rick. Carl. Michonne. Rosita. Glenn. Maggie. Eugene. Abraham. Sasha.

 

They're tensing for a fight, but she knows they've already lost.

 

“Look. Rick. You can open this fucking gate and maybe only one of you dies, or we can open it and all of you can die. Now, I don't want that, because you're a lot more useful to me alive than dead, but you're gonna open up one way or another. There's a lotta guns aimed at you all right now. So open the FUCK UP!”

Rick slowly moves to the gate.

“We can talk about this…” Rick says.

“Oh we're done talking. You have something I want. And I've come to collect.”

He hesitantly opens the gate, and several men file in. Their leader, a man in a white shirt, leather jacket, and jeans leads the way. 

“Line up friends! It's time for a talk.” The man calls out.

The men who came in push and pull everyone into a crude line, shoving them down to their knees, guns pointed at each of them. 

He walks right up to Rick. Bat over his shoulder menacingly.

“Hi. You're Rick, right? I'm Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people, FOR killing my people, YOU killed more of my people. One of your women stabbed one of my right hand guys. Where's Ali?”

Daryl moves closer to her.

“I'll get to you in a minute sweetheart. We gotta have a little chat.” He says before laughing tauntingly.

He turns back to Rick.

“Not cool. Not fucking cool. You have no fucking idea how not fucking cool that shit is. But. I think you're going to be up to speed here shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes. Fuck yeah you are.”

He walks from person to person, eyes never leaving Rick.

 

“You see Rick, whatever you do, no matter fucking what, you do not mess with the new world order. The new world order is this, and it's really very simple, even if you're fucking stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it. Now I know that is a mighty big nasty pill to swallow but swallow it, you most certainly mother fucking will. See, you thought you were safe. But you're not fucking safe, not even close. In fact, you are fucked. More fucked if you don't give me what I want, and what I want is half your shit.”

Moving through the group, he stops in front of Ali and stares her down.

“You did a bad thing to old Dwighty boy. And if you weren't so hot, you'd be dead already. But looking at you, sitting there looking like fucking Snow White, beautiful and pure as the mother fucking driven snow, I'm realizing there may be hope for you yet. I was gonna just have you killed for what your boyfriend, husband, whatever he is did to my men. But you are so SO much more useful alive. So you're just gonna have to pay another way.”

Daryl bristles, Negan smiles. They both glare, sizing each other up.

He moves on, and continues.

“This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone comes to your door, you fucking let us in, we own that fucking door! You try to fucking stop us? We will fucking knock that fucker down.”

He stops in front of Rick, pointing the bat in his face.

“You understand?”

Rick says nothing.

“What? No answer? You didn't really think you were gonna get through this without being punished, now did you? I don't want kill you people, just wanna make that clear from the get go. I want you to fucking work for me, and you can’t do that it you're fucking dead now can you? You killed my people, a whole fucking shit load of them, more than I'm comfortable with, and for that, you gotta pay.”

He looks over at Daryl.

“So now, I'm gonna beat the holy fuck fuckity fuck out of one of you.”

He looks at Ali, and smiles.

“Princess Snow White? Do I kill the brother? Or the lover?” He points the bat from Aaron to Daryl.

“No!” Ali screams and lunges forward. Daryl grabs her across her chest and waist as she sobs violently.

“Uh oh! Nope, get her back in line.”

The large man who was behind her grips the back of her shirt, dragging her back and out of Daryl's grasp. 

“Please.” She begs through her tears.

“I'm gonna allow that. You get one emotional outburst. I get it, this is a terrible fucking moment in your princess fucking life. But. You come at me again, and they're both dead, in addition to another one of your friends. Are. We. Fucking. Clear?”

She nods and digs her nails into her other hand, trying to use the pain to ward off shock. She is still ready to fight, if the situation allows for it.

“Now. Who's it gonna be? The princess? The kid?”

He hangs the bat over Eugene’s head.

“This sniveling idiot?”

He continues his pacing.

“I just cannot decide… I know! Let's eeny meeny miny moe that shit. Yeah. We’ll let fate fucking decide.

Moving back to the center of the line, he gears up to start.

“Eeny.” Daryl.

“Meeny.” Ali.

“Miny.” Aaron.

“Moe.” Rick.

“Catch a,” Carl.

“tiger.” Michonne.

“By the,” Rosita.

“toe.” Glenn.

“If he,” Maggie.

“hollers,” Eugene.

“let him go.” Sasha.

“My mother,” Abraham.

“told me,” Carl.

“to pick,” Rosita.

“the very best one!” Ali.

“And you are,” Glenn.

 

“IT!”

 

Abraham.

 

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything cut the boys eye out and feed it to his father, and then we'll start. You can breathe. You can blink. You can cry. Hell. You're all gonna be doing that..”

The women yelp and sob at the first blow. The men flinch and look away at the second. Everyone tries not to vomit at the third and fourth.

Ali covers her eyes.

“Oh! No, no princess! You gotta watch!” He swings the bat around flinging blood on Ali and everyone in the vicinity. 

“Make her watch.” He says to the man behind her, who walks up and forcibly pulls her arms behind her back.

“Don't you fucking touch her!” Daryl yells, and punches the man, knocking him down and releasing Ali.

“Holy fucking shit! This one has got balls! Jeeeesus! Get back in line motherfucker, or she'll be coming home with me.”

Daryl sits back down in his spot, and the man he hit, joins the one already behind him, with guns to his back.

“Now. Back to it!”

 

He beats Abraham’s head in until it is nothing but a bloody pulp on the ground. And once he's done, he laughs maniacally.

“Lucille here, is a vampire bat. And she is. THIRSTY!” He says, continuing his terrifying laughter.

 

“Now. I know this has been an emotional day for everyone. Hell, I'm fucking exhausted! So we’ll come and collect our shit tomorrow. Give you a little time to prepare.”

Ali struggles not to make eye contact.

“Oh. And one more thing.”

She feels him staring at her, smiling, and she's ready to claw her skin off.

“The Lover, will be coming with us. You know. Collateral.” He looks up at the two men behind Daryl who grab both of his arms.

Ali claws at Daryl's shirt. Sobbing. They're given two seconds of eye contact.

So she spills her heart.

 

“I love you!”

 

And he's dragged away.

She tries to get to her feet, but Aaron uses all of his strength to restrain her. And he does.

 

They pull Daryl out of the gates, the rest of the men filing out after.

Negan pulls the gate shut from the outside while staring at Rick.

At the last second, he looks at Ali. 

“See ya tomorrow.”

He turns, and leaves.

Everyone crumples.

Rosita wails, falling onto Abraham. 

But Ali runs to the gate.

She can't breathe. She can't think. She can't feel. All she can do is struggle to sob and wail and scream. 

And Aaron's heart is breaking as he walks over, and grabs her.

 

*****

 

She sits at the gate until nightfall. Curled up into a ball leaning on the tarp, against the bars.

The salt from her tears collected dirt as it dried and she's filthy and exhausted.

She no longer cries, just sits and continues to dig her nails into her hand, hoping to come back down to earth.

Her hand feels wet. And she looks at the blood. Confused.

Bloody half moon nail marks cover her hands. Some are crusted and some are fresh.

 

She didn't feel any of them.

 

Aaron approaches her later to find her asleep.

He lifts her up and carries her home, praying he can keep the darkness from swallowing her again.

 

Ali wakes. In her bed, on her side, with Aaron across from her. She looks at him, and for a minute, she forgets why he's there. She forgets the man who normally would be there.

And then, a tidal wave of grief sweeps her away.

A loud gasp followed by a gut wrenching sob jolts Aaron out of his sleep, and he immediately takes her into his arms.

He knew this was coming. And he was ready.

She cries until she can't anymore clutching her waist, trapped in a fetal position. And then the numbness sets in. She rests her head on his shoulder, and he strokes her hair.

“We're gonna get him back Aliana. We are.”

And she closes her eyes.

 

*****

 

Filthy, beaten, and exhausted, Daryl sits in a truck headed for Alexandria. 

His prisoners uniform, a disgusting sweatsuit, reeks of piss and shit, and the night he just endured was one of the worst of his life. He kept his head down, for fear of retaliation against her. He pretended to be cooperative. Went along with what they said.

But he would light himself on fire if it meant he got to see her. To make sure she's okay.

When they arrive at he gates, it's mere seconds before they're let in.

“Now THATS what I'm fucking talkin’ about! The new world order. Fuck. Yes.” Negan says as he saunters in the gates toward Rick.

“Now. Rick…” Negan says, handing him the bat. Why don't you give Lucille and I a tour of your humble home!” 

They walk off, and Daryl anxiously scans the faces nearby.

She's not there.

 

“Shit!”

Loud talking had tipped Ali off that something was going on. She was reloading her pistols when she heard it.

Spinning around to hide her guns, she comes face to face with a man in her doorway.

“Well well!” He sneers. “What's all this?” 

Her eyes dart to her lifted rug and floorboard and she lunges to grab her pistols before he does. 

He grabs her arm and yanks it hard sending her face first into the corner of her table. Pain blossoms in her eye but she goes for the pistol again. He shoves her down and sits on top of her before she can reach it.

He punches her where she hit the table, and she tries not to vomit.

He rips her tank top exposing her bra and he punches her in the ribs.

Stars burst into her vision as she struggles to breathe. Her mind tries to black out, but a rush of adrenaline brings her back.

Ali thrashes wildly and knees him in the balls. As he's trying to catch his breath, she kicks him directly in the face.

“Jesus Christ!” Dwight says from the doorway. “Put those fucking guns away.” He hisses.

She does as she's told, and as she's smoothing the rest of the rug down, another man appears.

“Paulie here has made a big fucking mistake. Gotta take him to the boss.”

The man scoops Paulie up under his armpits and Dwight moves to help Ali up.

“Don't fucking touch me. Don't you fucking dare, you stupid prick.”

“Alright.” He says holding his hands up. “Come on then.”

 

Negan is outside of the house when she emerges with Dwight. 

She sees Rick, Glenn, the man who hurt her, and some others, another face in the small crowd catches her attention. She knows it's going to be painful to look at him, but she would never forgive herself if she didn't.

She raises her eyes, and they make contact.

He says nothing, but he immediately pales at the sight of her.

Her shirt hangs open, exposing her entire stomach and bra to the small crowd, a large bruise beginning to spread over her left side. Her right forearm is red and angry, and her right eye is nearly swollen shut, dark bruises forming around it.

The man, Paulie, is brought to Negan’s feet.

Everyone tries not to look at Ali. Except Negan.

“Now Paulie. You have just made the biggest mistake of your adult life. Princess here, makes me feel some kind of way, and looking at her, like this, makes me down right homicidal. But. I'm a reasonable guy. And I'm a firm believer that a man needs to protect his family. A man takes care of his own. So you know what? I'm not gonna kill ya.” Negan says with a sly smile.

The man exhales his fear.

“But Daryl is.”

Paulie looks around confused and panicking.

“Daryl, why don't you defend her fucking honor, and teach this disgusting, molester, woman beating motherfucker a lesson.” He walks over to Ali and leans in close. “You're gonna want to see this princess.”

Negan holds his arm out as an invitation.

Daryl moves forward and tackles Paulie. He beats his face until it isn't clear whether the blood on the ground was from Paulie, or Daryl's mangled hands. He beats him until he no longer moves. Daryl's breathing is frantic and his face is red. Sweat drips off of his hair and the sight of him terrifies her. 

Those hands. The hands that touch her in the dark. Bring her to orgasm. Grip her hair with his kiss. Comfort her in the night. Light her skin on fire with every touch. Taught her to hunt better. Taught her to shoot better. Smooth her hair out of her face. Care for her every fucking day.

 

Those hands alone just killed a man.

 

“Daryl. Stop.” She speaks weakly, looking at him through tear filled eyes, and the sound of her voice breaks his heart into a thousand pieces.

“Well, aren't you going to comfort her?” Negan asks irritably.

Daryl is on her in a second. He's unable to speak, but he kisses her lips and wipes at her tears with his sleeve. He tries to close her shirt for her, but she's beyond caring.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” She breathes, knowing this may be her last chance.

And he grabs the back of her hair and pulls her closer.

“Alrighty then! That's e-fucking-nough of that! You're making me feel pretty fucking jealous!” Negan walks up and grabs Daryl by the back of the sweatshirt, yanking him from her arms hard enough that she stumbles forward a bit.

“Oh! Oops! He's still breathing! Well fuck that.” Negan walks back to the bloody mess that is Paulie and begins pulverizing his skull with Lucille. 

Daryl and Ali stare at each other. In his mind he's telling her he loves her more than anything and that he'll find a way back to her. 

In her mind, she's begging him not to leave. Though she knows they're helpless.

“Well I think we learned a valuable lesson here today kids. No violent fucking crimes against fucking women. Especially, when they look like that! Now, get back to fucking work.”

A small crowd had gathered when they heard the commotion. Most of the residents knew better than to be a witness to what was happening, but some, could not resist.

Glenn walks over and puts his arm around Ali.

“Take her to your infirmary.” Negan grouses, waving a hand at Glenn.

He leads her away.

And he leans in close.

“I'm taking Maggie to Hilltop, I think it'll be safer there for now. Once they've got what they want, we're out of here, and I think you should come with us.” He whispers and grips her shoulder.

She looks over at Daryl, who gives her a nod so slight, only she saw it.

“Okay.” She whispers to her friend, still looking to Daryl for the answer.

 

*****

 

Ali watches from the infirmary window where she sits with Rosita. They watch as their mattresses, food, and weapons are loaded into trucks.

“Hijo de puta. He's gonna pay for this.” Rosita says quietly as she hands Ali a gauze pad.

“I'm sorry about Abraham. I know you guys had a thing, before. He uh, h-he didn't deserve this.” Ali stumbles over her words, unsure they would be any consolation.

“Just… Don't let them make you weak. We need you. We're going to kill them, and we're going to get Daryl back. We just have to bide our time.”

They close up the trucks, and Ali emerges from the infirmary in time to see them go. 

Daryl looks at her one last time before being shoved into a waiting truck.

She watches them drive away. And she turns and races back to Aaron's house. Taking the stairs two at a time she explodes through the door to her room.

The entire place was ransacked. Their bed is gone, a lot of her clothes, her table, her pack, books, and bow.

Picking a black tank top up off of the floor, she angrily rips the tattered one off and replaces it with the new one.

“God fucking damnit!!!” She screams, tearing at her hair and dropping to her knees.

She breathes heavy, grinding her fist into the floor, before collecting herself and moving forward.

Daryl's orange pack remains, and she uses it to gather what's left of her clothes and other belongings to leave. She opens the floorboard to collect her pistols when something red catches her eye.

She reaches down inside, and pulls out his bandanna. Turning it over in her hands, she rubs the fabric between her fingers, and lifts it up to smell it.

Cigarettes, campfire, woods, rain, sunshine.

Shoving it in her pocket, she takes a breath, and pushes the emotion down. She crams one pistol in her bag, and the other in her waistband. They were going to need them if they hoped to get Maggie to Hilltop safely.

Her machete leans against the wall at the door, and she grabs it on the way out.

But something makes her stop and turn. She looks back at her room. She had made a lot of love and felt a lot of pain in this room.

But without him, it's just four walls and a roof.

Hoisting Daryl's pack up onto her shoulders, she makes her way out to join Glenn and Maggie. 

Something is different in her. 

 

She's got fire in her eyes, and she's going to get him back, if she has to murder every last one of them herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thrilled to introduce Negan to the story, I think his presence will change the entire dynamic. Rick made a choice to open the gates, but I'm not sure he really had any other options. And it will be interesting to see how Daryl ultimately reacts to Negan's creepy love for Ali. I also decided to keep Glenn alive, because I wanted to explore how different things can be with him around. I'm still salty about his death from the show/comics to be honest, and I think he could be a good friend to Ali, so that will be interesting to see where that goes. Separating these two hurt my heart so badly, but it was the drive Ali needed to tell Daryl how she really feels. I just hope she gets to hear it back.
> 
> Let me know what you think! :)


	14. Chapter 14

 

“This? This can all be yours. You work for me, and your super hot girlfriend can live with you and it can be happily fucking ever after. All you gotta do is answer one simple question.”

Negan moves closer to Daryl, who stares downward, his hair covering his face, refusing eye contact.

They stand in a small apartment in the Sanctuary. It's nicely furnished with items stolen from the communities. And it would be desirable to most, but to Daryl it's still a prison.

“Who are you?” Negan asks. 

Daryl says nothing.

“I'm gonna ask you one more time. Who are you?”

It's silent for a moment, before Daryl finally raises his head, looking Negan directly in the eye.

“Daryl.” He responds.

Dwight raises his eyebrows and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Look, this is the only w…” Dwight blurts out

“Hey!” Negan interrupts, “It’s cool D, he made his choice. Ain't my problem if he made a dumbass choice.”

He gets closer to Daryl's face.

“You ain't ever going to see sweetheart princess again if you don't get your fucking priorities straight. Keep that in mind. Take him back D, he has a lot to think about.”

Dwight grabs the back of his sweatshirt and leads him back to his cell. Opening the door, he shoves him back inside.

“You're gonna wind up in that room, or hanging on the fence!” Dwight roars.

“I get why you did it, why you took it. Why you sold us out. You were thinkin’ about someone else. That's why I can't.” Daryl grouses. His throat dry, and mouth painful from the beatings he's endured.

Dwight leans in, enraged.

“You are never gonna see her again. Get used to it. She's gone.” Dwight slams the door, bathing Daryl in darkness.

She hadn't been in Alexandria the last time he was dragged. No one could tell Negan where she had gone, but Daryl figured that was more for her protection than anything. Everyone seemed to be playing dumb. If she were dead, he hoped someone would find a way to tell him. 

Still, the absence of her face was painful. Dwight had dragged him up to their room, made him sit in her absence. Made him marinate in it. 

He overheard a hushed conversation between she and Glenn, that day she was beaten. He had tried to give her a sign of his approval.

And he hopes to God every day, that Glenn got her somewhere safe. 

 

*****

 

“The gates are closed.” Maggie says.

“Wait, they're still loading up outside.” Jesus replies.

Jesus had hidden Maggie, Glenn, and Ali inside a closet at Barrington House. The Saviors had come to collect, and Negan sent someone after Ali. A tall balding man with a large mustache, Simon, was sent to bring Ali to the sanctuary following her suspicious disappearance from Alexandria.

_“Find that girl. She didn't just fucking disappear off the face of the goddamn motherfucking earth. He’ll break a lot faster if she's here and I want that fucking badass working for me."_

Gregory tried to turn Ali over, to save his own ass, but Jesus hid them in a different closet than the one suggested. 

Jesus has been more than a friend. He's been her rock.

 

“We'll meet you back at the trailer.” Glenn says to Ali, as he gently leads Maggie out the back door.

 

Ali stands beside Jesus, looking out over the small community.

“I know this is killing you.” Jesus says.

Ali exhales slowly.

“If I could find words to describe the pain of his absence, they would probably kill me just to say them. He is everything to me.” She bites the inside of her cheeks. Physical pain keeps her grounded.

Jesus places a hand on her back, and she closes her eyes. After a week, her bruises had faded some, and her eye was no longer swollen. But she still looked like she had been to hell and back.

“Can you find out, where Negan lives?” She opens her eyes and turns to face him.

“One of the trucks is going back there, so yeah, I can do that.”

“This needs to stay between us. And if you find Daryl. Please tell him I love him.”

“You're going to tell him yourself.” He says, running to the back door. 

She can't help but smile, the first one in a week.

 

She leaves the mansion and walks back to the trailer she shares with Jesus. It's old, and not much to look at, but it's got two beds, a table, a small kitchen, and it's safe. In her short time here, she had grown closer to Glenn, Maggie, and Jesus. Though, she didn't do much talking to the other residents. 

Insomnia plagues her nightly and she spends them in pain. When her sadness isn't swallowing her whole, she's staring into the darkness, or smoking on the porch until Jesus drags her inside.

He gets her through the bad nights. Especially when he told her about losing his partner to this world.

She thinks about Aaron and Eric.

Aaron had promised he would come to Hilltop after helping Rick scavenge for supplies. With Daryl, Glenn, and herself gone, they were down three runners. He had no choice but to stay. 

The absence of her brother is painful. He's been her security for so long.

 

But every day, she’s changing. Hardening. Evolving.

 

She takes the red bandanna in her hands, and draping it over her face, she lies down on her small twin bed.

The sleep she so desperately needs, begins to pull her under.

A small knock at the door jolts her awake. She's not sure it even happened, until she hears it again.

Ali opens the trailer door, and immediately takes the person standing there in her arms. She doesn't cry, but they hold each other tightly. 

“I was so fucking worried about you Ali! You just disappeared.”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's not safe for me there right now. They're looking for me, probably to use me to hurt Daryl. Only Rick and Aaron know where I am. Well, now you too.”

 

Enid.

 

*****

 

Jesus is not surprised when he found the stowaway Carl in the truck. The kid has guts, a direct result of growing up in hell.

“We're getting close I think. The truck is going slow enough, lets get out here.”

“But what if I screw up?” Carl asks.

“You won't, let's just go before we lose our chance.”

“Okay, you go first.”

Jesus jumps from the truck, rolls and runs off to the side. He ducks behind an old car and looks up to see Carl giving him a slow wave.

He scoffs, realizing he's been had.

 

Daryl works the wall. The outer fence of the Sanctuary is guarded by walkers chained and impaled. The people who cross Negan and manage to not be bludgeoned to death, end up being allowed to turn after death and secured to the wall.

The trucks from Hilltop pull up.

He looks up for a second, before returning to his job of moving old rotten body parts and garbage.

Scooting closer to the fence, he listens intently. He knows Simon was sent after Ali. 

Negan emerges and confronts Simon first. 

“Well? I'm guessing since she's not here, you didn't fucking find her.”

“She ain't there boss. They're either bouncing her in between communities… or she's just gone.” Simon replies, the slightest hint of fear in his voice.

“She's not fucking gone.”

Daryl breathes, grateful she's not here, but still anxious that no one seems to know where she is.

Saviors file in to unload the supplies, when gunshots ring out.

“I only want Negan. He killed my friend. Nobody else has to die!”

The voice causes him to move back over to the fence for a better look, though he knows the person it sounds like couldn't be here.

 

Carl.

 

Dwight tackles Carl and puts a gun in his face, before Negan interjects.

“Dwight, back off. Is that any way to treat our new guest?”

Daryl gets as close as he can before a walker tries to grab him, causing him to duck and run.

“Kid. I'm gonna show you around.” Negan pulls Carl up from the ground.

Carl glares at him.

“Really? You're not gonna take my fucking hand? You know, you're fucking lucky you even still have a hand. Same as your boy Daryl over here”

Daryl remains glued to the fence, ready to risk it all should anything happen to the kid.

“How’s that shitty job going Daryl? Hot enough for you? Hell, it'd be fucking tough with one arm.” Negan laughs quietly.

After noticing Daryl, Carl takes his hand hesitantly.

“Dwighty boy, why don't you grab Daryl, take him in the kitchen, and do a little grub prep. Bring it up to my wives. God damn, you know, I'm not even gonna have time to fuck any of ‘em today.”

Dwight grasps the back of Daryl's sweatshirt and leads him ahead.

“Well. Maybe I'll fuck just one. The best one.”

He looks directly at Dwight, and Daryl can feel his hand tightening on his back as he shoves him into the building. 

Each interaction Daryl witnesses between Negan and Dwight creates little fissures in the shell of hatred he has for the latter. He's just a man who thought he could save someone he loves. But the choices he made, were wrong.

He can't imagine the torture of seeing his wife with someone like that. A sacrifice she made just to keep him breathing.

He thinks of Ali, and how she can never end up at the Sanctuary. How he would take a beating every day if it meant keeping her away from Negan.

 

She's a gentle soul in a violent world.

 

They prep a tray of fruits, and bring it to the wives quarters.

Dwight says nothing as they reach the door, but Daryl observes his face. It's obvious the sight of Sherry ruins him every time.

Negan is kissing Sherry when they walk in. He stops and looks over smugly at both Daryl and Dwight, before walking over to take a look at the tray.

“Why you got the kid here?” Daryl asks.

“Whoa! Well what do you know, he speaks! It's none of your fucking business what Carl and I are doing. Now, follow Dwighty boy and let's get you a mop.”

He takes the tray and hands it to Carl.

Before leaning close to Daryl.

“One more outburst like that, and I will kill him. And you'll get to think about that in your box every fucking night. Along with the fact that your woman bailed. She's either gone or she's fucking dead. And I'll tell you right now, when I find her, and find her I definitely fucking will, she's gonna wish she'd stayed gone. She's gonna watch you die, and then she's gonna join Sherry here, to pay for all the work I've done to find her ass and keep you alive.”

He lets out a menacing chuckle.

“Come on kid, we've got more to see.” He holds his arm out for Carl to go first.

Daryl turns behind him and looks to Sherry. 

She's crying, thinking about the woman she betrayed and the lives whose ruin she set into motion.

Was it worth it?

No.

She looks Daryl in the eye, tears streaming down her face, as Dwight drags him from the room.

 

The darkness of the cell had become oddly comforting. 

The things Daryl had witnessed at the sanctuary, made him grateful for the time he spent locked away from the horrors.

At least he had time to think about her.

 

A door opens peaking his attention. Footsteps in the hall come closer until they stop right outside his door.

“Tell her. I'm sorry.” Sherry’s quiet voice breaks the silence.

A folded note is shoved underneath that reads _go now_ a motorcycle key and a match are taped to the back.

Daryl sits there, turning the note over in his hands. Weighing the risks of attempting any kind of escape. Wondering if this is a trap.

He tries the door. And it opens.

So he takes off.

Out into the hallway, ducking into Dwight’s room, he steals some clothes.

Running to the nearest exit, the door is held open by a matchbook to keep it from shutting and locking. He shoves it open and sprints out into the courtyard.

 

“Whoa!” A Savior nearly runs into him. A large man whose face Daryl remembers through the haze of his beatings. 

He takes one look at Daryl, holding a pipe, filthy, sweaty, crazed, and throws his hands up in the air.

“Buddy, you can walk right out that back gate, and I won't say shit. Look, I’m just trying to get by, just like you!”

Daryl lunges forward and bludgeons the man to death.

He beats the man for beating him. He beats the man for locking him in a cell. For feeding him dog food sandwiches. For Ali. And the beating she took. 

The image in his mind of her standing there in the street, bleeding and bruised. Her shirt torn open, revealing parts of her body she shares with him in the dark. The quiet way she stopped him from losing himself in the murder. It's all too much. It sends him over the edge.

He sees red. And he cries.

While he's pulverizing the man’s skull, Jesus appears from around the corner.

“Daryl… Daryl!”

He stops. Looking up at Jesus, breathing hard, he speaks.

“It ain't about gettin’ by here. It's about gettin’ it all.”

 

Before turning away, he checks the dead man for weapons and he finds a single gun.

Rick's Colt Python.

 

He throws the pipe down, takes the gun, and moves to the bike.

“C’mon, I got the key.”

They leave.

 

And the heat of the day welcomes them.

 

*****

 

Ali thought she heard a motorcycle. 

But her mind dismisses the sound. She tells herself it's just what she wants to hear. It's not the first time that's happened.

 

Glenn, Maggie, Ali, and Enid sit down for dinner together.

Ali looks around at the faces beside her, and for a minute, she feels okay.

It's when she's alone that she spirals.

They spend their evenings telling her about their journey so far. They tell her about the farm. About the prison. How Daryl had named Judith “Little Ass Kicker”. She hears about the active role he took in keeping them safe. How he went 70 miles with Michonne and some others to bring back medicine. Medicine that saved Glenn's life. They tell her about Merle, and how much Daryl has grown and changed since Atlanta. How he'd found the barn that sheltered them from that storm, when they were broken and hopeless.

Aaron had been watching him. And saw he was a good man.

They think they're helping. They think this will make her feel better.

But once she returns to her trailer, the pain sets in and late into the night, she cries in her bed. Until Jesus gets up and holds her.

She's lost so much more than her lover, she's lost her best friend.

So, she holds on to these people. Their memories and connection to him getting her through.

No matter how painful it is to hear.

 

There's a knock at the trailer door, and Jesus peeks in.

“Hi. Can I borrow Ali? It's urgent.”

Anxiety swells in her chest. A cold sweat blooms over her body beginning at her neck. She nods weakly, and excuses herself from her friends.

“What is it?” She whispers when she's outside.

“Just, come with me.”

And they walk.

“Is he dead?” Ali asks after a moment.

Jesus doesn't answer.

He walks up the steps to their trailer and opens the door.

Ali knows he's going to take her in there, and tell her Daryl is dead. He wants her to go inside so no one else has to bear witness to the tsunami of her grief. So he can stop her from drowning. She knows she'll never see him again. And her heart pounds wildly.

“I- I can't go in there.” She says, voice panicky.

“Come on.” Jesus nods towards the door, motioning for her to join him inside.

She takes shaky steps up and into the dim trailer. 

And she freezes. 

The air is sucked from the room when she sees him. She doesn't know if she's going to pass out, or vomit.

She finally takes in a painful breath.

He stands in the shadows. Sweaty, filthy, covered in blood. Dressed differently than she last saw him, he still looks not himself. He stares at his hands. He stares at her. He’s vacant, and it scares her.

He doesn't speak. And neither does she.

“I'll give you two some time alone.” Jesus says, awkwardly backing out of the trailer.

Ali stands on one end, Daryl on the other.

The shock of being in each other's presence, is all consuming.

His face crumples, and tears begin to flow. Her heart breaks for the man she gave it to.

“Daryl… I…” Her words cut off as a sob escapes her lips.

She covers her face with her hands, not wanting him to see her so weak anymore.

And suddenly, he's there. Strong arms enveloping her, holding her close and tight.

“I thought I'd never see you again.” Tears freely falling, her words are messy and hard to get out.

“Are you okay?” She asks, not knowing what else to say.

He nods, as she pulls away to look at him. Gently inspecting his face with her fingertips.

The room is darkening, night is upon them. Through the shadows she can see he’s been beaten. He's exhausted and he's broken, but he's still the same Daryl she loves so hard.

“Come on.” She leads him over to the corner with the chairs and table. Hot water already collected in a bucket brought over by Jesus. 

She works to undress him. Gently removing clothes that aren't his, and cleaning the grime off of his beautiful body.

He watches her. Watches the care she gives him. She's humming softly, and gently massaging his aching muscles as she cleans. 

Her touch revives his soul. The hell he lived in was worth this moment.

Silent tears stream down his face, the gravity of being with her again, and the loving way she cares for him are too much to handle.

She notices, but says nothing.

 

When she's done, she helps him pull on a new black button down and some black jeans. Doing the buttons herself, as he stands there silent and unmoving.

She leads him over to the bed and helps him lie down. Taking her place next to him, she tucks herself under his arm, so carefully, and rests her head on his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around her.

 

And he doesn't let go.

 

They lie this way for a long while. Watching the shadows move across the trailer until it's entirely dark. She gently gets up for water, thinking he's asleep. Lighting a candle, she turns to find him watching her.

His eyes are dark, and she can't look away. 

“Daryl. Please. Talk to me.” She whispers.

“What you said. In Alexandria. Did you mean it?” His voice, raspy from exhaustion and crying, is the most beautiful thing she's heard in so long.

“I did- I do. Does that scare you?” 

“No.”

“I hated telling you right then, I shouldn't have waited that long, but I was afraid I would never have another chance.”

He closes his eyes.

“It don't scare me.”

Silence falls between them. 

She makes her way over to the bed and sits down facing him. She picks up one of his hands and gently traces circles in his palm before gripping it tight.

He opens his eyes, and looks into hers.

“I'd have sold my fucking soul to see you again Daryl. To be with you. And after that day, in Alexandria. You killed a man. For me, because of me…”

“No man is ever gonna get away with hurting you again.”

“I know…” She breathes.

“I'd do anything for you Aliana. Anything.”

He surprises her when he closes the space between them, kissing her gently.

He pulls her into his lap. Straddling him, she grinds her center against his erection, lighting fire to his arousal.

He pulls her shirt off as she fumbles with the buttons on his. He laughs when he can't undo her bra.

He smiles. His smile. He's still in there.

The sight, so beautiful she could cry.

Her breasts are free, and he runs his hands gently from her neck down over her sensitive nipples. Snaking his hands around to her back, he brings her closer and takes one at a time into his mouth, sucking and biting as she breathes hard, gripping handfuls of his hair.

He only has a brief moment to come up for air before her lips are on his again. She works at his belt as he opens her jeans. He moves her over onto her back to pull her pants off, and he stands to let his drop to the floor.

He takes in the sight of her. Laying on the bed. Naked aside from her panties. Wavy dark hair an absolute mess. Face flushed from arousal.

“You're beautiful.” He says quietly. Shyly.

She reaches out to him, taking his hands and pulling him to her.

“I love you, Daryl.” She says, looking him in the eye.

He doesn't have time to respond before he's lost in her kiss again.

She pushes him gently to his back, and begins to stroke his hardened shaft, bringing him in her mouth. 

He grips her hair, eyebrows knitted in ecstasy.

Stopping before he finds release, she moves to kiss his lips.

He reaches down, pulling her panties aside, gently stroking and pressing rhythmically against her heated sex.

When his fingers find entrance, she gasps and he gives her his half smile.

The gentle pressure nearly sends her over the edge, and she's unable to wait any longer.

Desperate to feel him, she straddles his lap. Guiding him inside her, and they move together. 

Ali quickens the pace, and he brings his hands up to wipe her sweaty hair out of her face. He leans in close to her ear, and the warmth on her neck causes an eruption of chills.

“Go slow.” He says shakily, trying to catch his breath. And he traces his hands down her back and over her thighs. “We got time.”

She pulls back and looks him in the eyes. Stormy blue meets warm amber. This man holds her heart and her soul, and he knows it. And in this most intimate moment of his life, he wants to make it last as long as possible. 

So he helps her set a pace. 

He worships her body, and she, his, until they both come so hard they can barely breathe.

Then they lie together, bodies trembling and exhausted, but finally reconnected.

Spiritually, and physically.

 

He holds her in the darkness. Eventually her breathing evens out, and he realizes she's asleep.

Looking towards the trailer’s tiny window, he watches the bright moonlight filtering in. Checking her watch on the table beside him, it's 2am.

Any fear he had of loving her, and of having her know it, are the only things he did lose in his time as a prisoner of the Saviors.

He did not lose himself, he did not kneel.

For her.

“I love you.” He whispers into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

 

Ali awakens. It's still dark, but she realizes she's alone. 

His knife is gone, pants, and boots too. But his shirt remains on the floor.

She pulls it on, her panties, then her boots.

She opens the back door, as quietly as she can. She finds him, bathed in moonlight, on the tiny porch of the trailer.

Smoke dances like ghosts around him and he turns to look at her briefly before facing forward again.

His scars appear darker in this light. Rib cage peppered with bruises from the beatings he took in his refusal to comply.

She reaches out, ghosting her hands over the plane of his shoulders and back, before stepping around in front of him.

He hands her the cigarette, then pinches up the hem of his shirt resting on her upper thighs. 

“Looks better on you anyway.” He smirks.

She smiles, before letting her face fall.

“We’re going to war.” She says, resolute.

“I know.” He looks at the porch rail where his hands rest.

“I'm not leaving you, for any reason. We go together. We fight. Together.” She asserts.

“Me too.”

They stand there quietly. 

“I love you Aliana.”

It's the first time she's heard it from him. And the sound of those words has her feeling high.

“They beat me every day. Told me that, if I'd just kneel, you could come there and live. With me. But when you went missin’, his tune changed. He was gonna kill me in front of you, and make you his wife. He's got some nasty hard on for you, and he'll stop at nothin’ to find you.”

“What?” She breathes. She knew they were searching for her, but she didn't know the extent of it.

“Sherry’s his now. And Dwight is payin’ for that every god damn day. Every day.”

She grimaces at the thought, and he can see the empathy in her face. In her gentle soul.

“That ain't gonna be you. I'll die before I let that happen. I almost did.”

 

She tucks herself under his arm, and he turns to pull her entire body into him.

They stand there as one a while longer before retreating inside.

She pulls him down on the bed, and into her body.

And he goes without hesitation.

 

They know not what horrors the morning will bring. But for the rest of the night, they forget about the war. Forget about those that want them dead. Forget about the pain and the fear and the grief.

 

The cloak of darkness hides the lovers, who give their hearts.

And no one can stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time with this chapter. I'm not sure why. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you all like it! Let me know what you think. :)


	15. Chapter 15

In the morning, the euphoria of their reunion dissipates, and the cold reality of their lives pushes itself forward.

As she dresses, Ali watches Daryl, though she's afraid he might disappear. He notices her staring, but says nothing.

An answered knock at the door sends Enid darting into her arms.

“Are you okay? I had to stay in the big house with Jesus. He said you needed some time alone, and after you left dinner, I was kind of freaking out.”

It is then, that she sees him.

Enid moves over to Daryl, surprised by his presence. He hugs her, lifting her up off of the ground for a moment.

“Hey kid.” Is all he says.

 

They reunite him with his family. 

Glenn hugs him hard.

Maggie cries.

Enid tucks herself into Ali's side.

But Daryl notices her eyes. She's here, but she's not.

“Rick said he would come after a week or so. So really anytime now. We're hoping we can convince him, and also Gregory, that we have to fight. This can't be our lives now.” Glenn's voice shifts her attention.

“You think Rick is gonna go for that?” Daryl asks.

“We have to try. We have to.” Maggie says sadly.

“People will die. A lot of people, on both sides.” Ali confesses, her voice quiet and reserved.

Then they fall silent.

Their small group dissolves as they all slink off to their posts. Daryl produces Rick’s gun and starts in on cleaning it up after it's time with the Saviors. He sits quietly at a picnic table near the trailers. Appearing deep in thought, Ali leaves him be, taking her place next to Maggie on watch.

She can feel the weight of his stare on her. Nothing has ever felt more unnerving, yet safe and familiar.

 

*****

 

Having a comfortable friendship with another woman has never been something she easily achieves. In this time, since the inevitable rise of the Saviors, Maggie has become a valuable confidante. Still, Ali is reserved, unable to reveal her entire heart. Though the difference between the woman she was when Aaron brought them back, and the woman she is now, is vast. Maggie listened to her when the pain of losing Daryl rippled through her, she held her hand through their move to Hilltop, and she collaborated with Jesus to ensure the grief didn't send her spiraling.

Maggie is strong. She is solid. She is family.

The changes Maggie and Glenn have set into motion, are taking Hilltop from surviving, to thriving. The improvements stem from their somewhat grassroots movement, brought on by the Saviors brutalizing Alexandria. 

Through it all, Gregory hides in the house. A weasel, unwilling to lead, yet always taking credit for keeping the community going.

People look to them now for the answers, they look to them for protection, they look to them for direction. And Ali's heart swells with pride to call them friends. To call them family.

Ali looks out into the tree line, any movement catches her attention. It is entirely unsettling. She glances over at Maggie, just a short walk down the catwalk to her right, before looking back out into the dim morning light. 

It's hot enough to have her shirt clinging to her skin, and she pulls the hemline away from her as the notices Maggie shifting uncomfortably at her post.

 

She moves her attention to the community, hard at work on their morning chores. And to Daryl. He looks up at her from where he sits at the table, and she can't help but wonder what storm clouds swirl around in his mind.

Maggie appears next to her, breaking Ali from her stupor. Noticing her focus on Daryl, she speaks.

“Did you go see Dr Carson yet?”

“I haven't had the chance…” Ali looks down at her hands, unsuccessfully hiding her nerves.

“You have. You just won't. Now when we're done here, you had better go. This is important Ali. You can't just go on not knowing.” Maggie presses.

“I do know. I just, don't want to think about it.”

“Just go. Go now, and send Enid up. Get it off your mind, so you can focus on being with him again.”

Ali nods her response, and makes the climb down from the top of the wall. 

She finds Enid playing with the kids, and asks her to start her shift a bit early. Assuring her everything is fine, she just has something she has to do, she moves on trying to exude nonchalance.

 

Her heart pounds as she makes her last stop before the infirmary.  
Daryl.

“You alright?” He looks up at her, eyebrows raised in question.

“I just have to go see the Doctor. Supposed to be checking up on my concussion, and I've been putting it off.”

He grunts his response, turning his attention back to his task.

“You alright?” He repeats, after a long moment of silence.

“Yeah.”

She doesn't wait for him to respond, before she turns and walks away. Lying to him feels awful, and she knows he'll eventually come find her. So she prepares her mind for the long conversation. 

Once she knows.

 

The walk to the infirmary feels like miles, and her feet seem to drag. 

It is a much larger trailer than the ones they use as residences, with two rooms, a bathroom, and a small hallway. Ali guesses the doctor needs the space to house the equipment they have, while providing a place for the very sick or injured to recover.

Opening the door, the sterility hits her, and she realizes that though the world as they know it has ended, some things never change.

 

“You got a second?” Ali asks with a quiet knock on Doctor Carson’s door.

He looks away from the text he was reading. Information about childbirth in less than desirable situations.

“Sure Ali. What's going on?”

“We found a pharmacy, the day before the Saviors raided our community.” She lowers her voice. “I'd stashed away birth control, but they stole my pack, where I had it hidden. I know pills aren't terribly practical, but I was wondering if you happened to have the Depo shot.”

He takes note of her lowered voice. “You know whatever you say here is confidential, right?”

She looks around the room. Everywhere but at the doctor.

“I'm not supposed to be able to get pregnant. But, I've had unprotected sex. I'm just being cautious.”

“Let me just get a little information from you, standard stuff, for my records. We have the shot here.”

He extends a hand to the chair beside his desk and Ali sits shakily.

As he pulls out some papers, neither of them had noticed the door to the infirmary opening, or the near silent footsteps down the hall.

He's an expert at silence, the master of quiet, and this moment is no different.

Her awkward behavior had set him on edge, and having nothing better to do, he followed her to make sure she is okay. When Daryl heard her hushed voice, and the mention of pregnancy, it peaked his interest.

He knows he should not listen. He knows he should give her privacy, but the fear in his mind takes over, and he stays. Silent.

“Alright Ali. Age?”

“34"

“Age of menstrual onset?”

“12”

“Okay. Last menstrual period?”

“It's been a while.”

“We’ll need to do a pregnancy test before administering the injection. Just to be sure.”

“I understand.” Her hands shake. Her voice shakes. She knows what's coming next.

“Any pregnancies?”

She swallows thickly. “One.”

In the hallway, Daryl's eyebrows knit in confusion. 

“Live births?”

She takes a breath. “Zero.”

“Miscarriage?” He asks empathetically.

“I'm a- a domestic violence survivor.” Her voice cracks fissures in her composure.

“Say no more.” He notes her replies onto the paperwork.

 

Daryl grits his teeth in the hallway. He turns and leaves, rage threatening to spill out of him.

He thinks of his mom, and the beatings she took at the hands of his father. He thinks of Merle, and the abuse that ruined him. He thinks of himself. Abandoned by his brother, his only protector. Entirely alone, feeling the wrath of the demon of alcohol. Whipped again and again, broken until he had nothing left. Until he hardened himself. A shell formed by scars.

He thinks of Ali, and her torn open shirt for the town to see, bruises blossoming over her face and her ribs like a storm rolling in. 

She took a beating, and she kept on going, because she's done it before. It's how she's survived. Even before the world ended.

 

“Okay Ali. If the test is negative, we can administer the injection today. There's a bathroom just outside.”

She raises a timid hand and takes the plastic wrapped test.

The tiny bathroom, one of the only actual toilets at Hilltop, terrifies her. She wants to run and scream and hide. But she has to face it. She has to know for sure.

They have never been careful. Not once.

She winces as she wiggles her pants down, ribs still aching from the dead man’s attack.

Taking several deep breaths, she unwraps the test and shoves it between her thighs.

The stream of urine takes a moment to produce, but once she does, she quickly caps the test and grips it in her hands. 

_A heart monitor beeps alongside her head, recording vitals. She attempts to sit, but the weakness in her body wins and she stops. Her left arm is heavy, and she lifts it to find it casted._

_The world is hazy, and warm through her eyes, and she wonders what pure relief drips through the IV into her veins. This time._

_Through the haze, she tries to sit again, and she feels it. Pain. Sharp, dull, throbbing. Every way a person could feel it. It's everywhere all at once._

_The heart monitor goes wild with her anxiety, and a nurse runs in._

_“Miss Evans, please, don't try to sit up just yet.”_

_“My baby?” She rasps in question._

_“I'll get the doctor.”_

_As she leaves, Aaron rushes in with a coffee. He hastily sets it down on the table and sits on the edge of the bed, clutching her free hand._

_“Thank God.” He says again and again._

_And she wonders where God was when she decided to take a shower that night._

_A man in a white coat appears at the door._

_“Aliana Evans, I'm Doctor Tyner. I've been overseeing your care in your time here.”_

_She blinks._

_“How are you feeling?” He asks. Trying to delay the inevitable._

_“My baby?” She repeats._

_“Aliana, l’m afraid the trauma to your abdomen was too severe. I'm sorry, but you lost the baby.”_

_The world tilts and sways, and the rushing of blood in her head is all she hears. She looks at the doctor. She looks at Aaron. Her eyebrows draw up, a look of complete confusion on her face. They're speaking and she's hearing only parts of it._

_“… a D &C… there were complications… hemorrhaging… scar tissue… her uterus… highly unlikely... future pregnancies…”_

_Aaron cries, his hands come up to scrub at his tears. She stares at him._

_The nurse pushes something into the junction of the tube in her arm._

_It's warm. It's inviting. Her eyes droop. And she doesn't fight it._

_Aaron shakes the doctors hand, and he leaves._

_He takes his place by her side, and before the darkness envelops her, she hears him finally._

_“I'm sorry I didn't protect you.”_

 

She unfolds her hands from where they hide the test.

Negative.

And she laughs through her tears.

 

*****

 

She leaves the infirmary, hip aching from the injection.

Daryl watches her from where he sits sharpening his knife on the picnic table.

He wants to storm over, he wants to lash out, he wants to ask her why she didn't tell him. But one look at her face, and his anger is gone. She is miles away, and she looks exhausted. 

He keeps his head down, focused on his work, when he sees her shadow appear beside him.

“You good?” He squints up at her.

“Yeah. Concussion is fine. And I just had some questions.”

He waits.

“I got a birth control shot.”

“We ain't been too careful.” He says quietly, hoping she will volunteer information.

“It's fine. Everything's fine. I'm not- um… you don't have to worry.”

“I told you before, you can talk to me, but I ain't gonna pry.”

She takes a deep breath, and climbs up to sit cross legged on the table. He turns to face her, giving his complete attention, though she were the only other person in the world.

“There's more to the story of my life before all of this. More, that I couldn't tell you before, but I feel like you deserve to know now.” She breathes.

“Alright.”

“The man I was with… he was a charming son of a bitch.”

She begins her story, and she takes him back to a time when the dead stayed that way, but the world was just as ugly. 

Her abandonment issues kept her coming back for more and more, even when it meant her well being, and possibly her life. It was easy to find comfort in the familiar, even if it was killing her. Especially when being manipulated by a master, though it were his craft. It wasn't until she had another life to think about, that she planned her escape, her disappearance from his clutches. 

The sun moves across the sky as they sit, unaware of the movement of the community around them.

“One night he came home drunk. Blackout drunk. He was suspicious of me, he was always watching. So he opened my phone while I was in the shower. Saw I'd been texting a friend about him. I was gonna leave him. He opened the door, and slammed my face into the wall. He dragged me out and shoved me into the bedroom.”

He is silent as she speaks.

“I fought back. But I wasn't strong enough. He broke my arm.” 

Anxiety fills her voice, and he puts his hands on her knees. Grounding her.

“I was thirteen weeks pregnant. And then he kicked me… until I wasn't. A neighbor heard the fight and called the police. It wasn't the first time they'd made that call.”

“He get away with it?” She looks into his blue eyes, a sort of pain she's never seen before resides there.

“He was arrested. And charged with aggravated assault. He did time for it.” She whispers. “I woke up in the hospital with Aaron hovering over me. The doctor came in and told me that I miscarried, and there were complications. I probably can't have children… it would take a miracle. I just, got the shot as insurance.”

He stands, moves over to where she sits, tired and broken. He pulls her into his chest, and it is all she needs.

He smells like campfires, cigarettes, and rain. 

He smells like love, and sex, and home.

And she breathes him in, so deeply.

 

*****

They spend the evening with their makeshift family, making plans to present to Rick.

Sitting around the table in Jesus’ trailer, they talk quietly.

“Gregory won't budge. He says he'll be left out of it. That he's risked his life enough taking you all in as refugees.” Jesus laments.

“The people here, they want to fight, I talked to them. They don't care what Gregory thinks, they're with us.” Enid offers.

They are all silent for a moment.

“We don't need him anyway. Not like that old prick would be winning any fights.” Daryl's voice rises in the quiet.

“So what do we do?” Ali asks.

“I say, when Rick gets here with the others, we figure out what we need, we train the people here that are willing, and we search for weapons.” Glenn says.

“If we find the right stuff, maybe we don't need numbers. Blow ‘em up, burn ‘em to the ground” Daryl insists.

Maggie speaks. “We need another group. More hands.”

Daryl paces the room and Ali follows him with her eyes.

Glenn takes Maggie's hand, offering a soft smile.

Enid picks at her nails.

They're all lost in their thoughts, various things weighing heavily on each of their minds.

It is then that Jesus speaks.

 

“I think it's time I introduce you to Ezekiel. King Ezekiel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I've said other chapters were hard to write, but this one (albeit short) was the hardest. The subject matter is rough, and as promised, no babies. But, now you know why. Do you think Daryl is understanding of why Ali kept that part of her past from him? Or do you think the omission of this information will plant seeds of distrust? 
> 
> I hope it's up to par!
> 
> Xx


	16. Chapter 16

They are silent on the drive to the Kingdom.

Ali sits in the back of the large Suburban, sandwiched between Daryl and Carl.

She looks past Daryl out of his window, at the bright and beautiful morning. With the events of the last couple days still fresh in her mind, she remains reserved and contemplative.

Her silence unnerves him.

Daryl nudges her knee with the back of his hand, bringing her back to earth. He offers her a small smile, and she reaches up to rub at his bicep in response, before returning to her thoughts.

_Ali hears Maggie calling for her from the watch post at the gate. She jogs around the side of the trailer, where she had been collecting water, and runs straight into Enid._

_“They're here!” Enid says excitedly._

_Ali darts up the trailer steps and through the door, where Daryl and Jesus sit inside discussing the trip to the Kingdom they would be taking._

_“C’mon! They're here.”_

_She joins Enid outside and they move toward the opening gates._

_Rick, Carl, and Michonne make their way through._

_Then Ali sees a face she's been missing._

_Aaron._

_She sprints the rest of the way with Aaron jogging toward her. Throwing her arms around him, he holds her tight and lifts her up off of the ground. After a moment, he sets her down and she's finally able to look at him._

_“What the fuck happened to your face?” Ali breathes, bringing her fingertips up to touch at the bruises._

_“They're serious about finding you Ali. You have to be careful.” His tone is grave, his expression, grim._

_She doesn't question any further, just tucks herself under his arm._

_He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and they stand and watch everyone gather._

_It is a comforting sight. One of the few comforts afforded to them._

_Because they are strongest together._

“Alright, we’re here.” Jesus’ voice shifts her focus back to her surroundings.

She looks around to discover they're in a courtyard of sorts. Brick, industrial-like buildings surround them, though they have been overrun with vegetation. A walker sits against a nearby wall, thick vines grow in and out of its ribs and over its arms, trapping it until someone shows mercy. It roars into the void, rotten teeth clacking, forever searching for unattainable purchase.

They cautiously exit the car. Armed only with melee weapons and two pistols, everyone seems to crouch slightly. Their fear of being out in the open is not unfounded.

The sound of horse hooves break the otherwise quiet atmosphere, and everyone turns to follow the noise. Ali grips the handle of her knife, and notices Daryl doing the same. Jesus raises a placating hand as a man, dressed in body armor, rides up. He immediately recognizes Jesus, who gives a small wave.

“Who are these people Jesus?” He asks.

“They belong to a like minded group, and they're here to meet with the King about the Saviors.” 

“Alright,” The man says as he dismounts his horse. “I will take you inside, but you have to give up your guns.”

“We only have two.” Rick responds, nodding to Carl to hand his over as well.

“Well, I'm Richard by the way. Why don't you all follow me, and we'll see if King Ezekiel is receiving visitors.” The man, Richard, mounts his horse and turns toward the direction he came from.

Rick, Michonne, and Carl follow first.

Glenn and Aaron are next.

Ali and Daryl lag behind.

“You've been miles away since yesterday.” Daryl says under his breath. Concern paints his features. “You good?”

She turns her head to look at him, and it is then that he sees how tired and rundown she looks.

“I'll be fine.”

He shakes his head just slightly, and places a gentle hand on her lower back. His gentle attempt to guide her, and keep her grounded.

He thinks about the previous night, and how she had led him to a root cellar attached to the big house. The only moments they were alone. They made love in the darkness, his body driving into hers until she came apart in his arms. And she had cried afterwards, as he scrambled to find the cause of her upset. 

But, whether true or not, she reassured him that she was still reeling from the loss of him that she thought was forever. That having him back overwhelmed her with emotion.

Though he has never loved anyone before, he knows it's not supposed to hurt. And seeing her hurt is unbearable.

He promised to be there for her always, and right now, she needs him.

 

As they enter the gates, their senses are accosted in the new environment.

Lush gardens. Meat cooking. People training. Kids laughing and chasing each other. The air is far from the heavy, fear laden environments of Alexandria and Hilltop.

“Well. They've got the numbers.” Glenn speaks up.

“But can they fight? Ali asks.

Jesus gives a small laugh. “Oh, they can fight.”

 

Richard returns quickly and announces the King will see them.

As they're ushered into a large brick building, Ali stops short.

“Wait, is this a school?” She asks, confused.

“Yes,” Richard replies “the classrooms have been converted into residences. The King takes his visitors in the auditorium. We found this location easy to secure from the dead, and others.”

She blinks, before Daryl pulls her to join the others.

 

They descend into the cool, dim auditorium, and a roar causes a collective snap to attention.

A booming voice follows after, as they stand there, mouths agape.

“Now, now Shiva, these are our guests!” The King addressed the enormous tiger, who plops down beside him to lick its paws.

He continues.

“Welcome to the Kingdom weary travelers! What brings you to our humble community?” 

“We uh… we've come to ask for your help.” Rick is the first to gain the ability to speak.

The rest of them stand idly by, transfixed by the tiger’s presence.

He explains the events of the last couple weeks. How the Saviors killed Abraham, and came back for half of their supplies, and all of their weapons. He explains that Daryl and Ali are fugitives, and the Saviors are actively searching for them. The King listens intently, and appears empathetic.

Ali shifts uncomfortably, and Daryl watches her through his peripherals. 

“Will you help us?” Rick asks. “We can build a better life, one that's not spent under the tyranny of another group.”

Ezekiel thinks for a moment, and it is so quiet that several in the group jump when he speaks.

“Rest up for tonight friends, I shall give my decree in the morn.” 

“We really have to get back…” Rick argues.

“I shall give my decree in the morn. Richard, will you show these new allies where they can dine, and take rest.”

They follow Richard back into the lobby, and he takes them down a sparsely lit hallway, before stopping in front of two classrooms.

“We use these rooms for this type of situation mostly. I think you'll be most comfortable here. Help yourselves to the cafeteria. There are several residents who cook for the community.”

“Thank you.” Rick says, before leading Michonne and Carl in one of the rooms.

Daryl, Aaron, Ali, and Glenn file into the other classroom. They find camping cots folded up in the corner, and extra supplies visitors might need, toiletries and a random assortment of clothes included.

Ali drags a cot over to the furthest wall, and opens it with a loud squeak. Cringing, she lies down with one arm draped over her eyes. Sleep would take her if she would allow it, but this place still has her in edge.

Glenn and Aaron talk quietly, while Daryl paces.

“Daryl.”

She doesn't have to look up to know who is pacing.

“Daryl.” She moves her arm to prop herself up on her side.

He stops pacing, and shifts over to the cot Ali occupies. She lifts her legs for him to sit, bringing them back down in his lap. Leaning back against the painted cinderblock wall, he fiddles with her frayed boot laces, wearing an irritated look on his face.

“We’re wastin’ our time.” He grouses.

“You don't know that.” She sighs.

“I do.”

“Alright well, we're going to leave you two to your brooding, and have a look around.” Glenn says awkwardly while backing out of the room with Aaron.

They hardly notice them go.

Ali folds her arms behind her head and stares thoughtfully at the dingy ceiling. Daryl watches her for a moment, before pulling the knife hidden in her boot into his hands. He flicks it open and directs his attention back to her laces, cutting away at the frazzled pieces. He gives a small cough, as though he wants to say something, but he can't find the words.

“What?” Ali asks.

He looks down for a moment, interested in his nervous work, before answering cautiously.

“You're here, but you ain't.”

She doesn't respond, focus returning to the mystery stains on the ceiling. Compartmentalizing is not something she excels at, and trying to pack away the memories she shared with him the previous night is proving to be an arduous task.

She knows she's been closed off. Emotionally raw. And she watches as he retreats within himself.

Sitting up, she lifts her hand to the side of his face, drawing his attention back to her. They lock eyes for a moment. An entire conversation shared through one look.

She leans forward slowly and presses her lips to his, and it isn't long before he deepens the kiss. He sets her knife down and grips her hair. Running his other hand down her side, he clutches at her shirt, and his kiss brings her back to the here and now.

When she pulls away, she rests her forehead against his.

“Breathe.” His voice is low, and the gravely tenor gives her chills.

“I'm sorry.” She whispers.

She tucks herself into his side and he puts his arm around her, pulling her closer.

And it is all she needs.

 

*****

In the morning, the group gathers in the courtyard awaiting word from the King.

Ali watches a group of residents practicing their archery skills, and she can't help but feel jealous. The Saviors had taken her bow and quiver along with Daryl's crossbow. It was a miracle her machete was left behind, but she assumes they are deemed less valuable.

Shaking her hair off of her neck, she notices the humidity is rising, and the discomfort in the faces around her. Their shirts are damp with sweat, and they shift uncomfortably in the heat.

Ezekiel’s voice rises behind her, catching her off guard.

“This is life here. Every day. But it came at a cost.”

She turns to face him, and Daryl takes his place at her side.

The King continues addressing the entire group.

“I wanted to expand, I wanted for more places like this. And I sent my people into battle against the wasted when I did not need to. They lost limbs, they lost their brothers, and sisters. Children lost their parents.”

“This is different.” Rick argues.

“It isn't.”

“The dead don't rule us. The world doesn't look like this outside of these walls. People don't have it as good. Some people don't have it good at all.”

“I have to worry about my people.”

“You call yourself a damn king,” Daryl interjects. “you sure as hell don't act like one.”

“All of this, came at a cost.” 

“And you think we haven't paid dearly to be here right now? That we haven't paid with a friend’s life? We've almost paid with our own lives just to _scrape_ by.” Ali’s voice cracks with emotion.

Daryl places a steadying hand on her back, and she closes her eyes, exhaling slowly.

The King looks at her, a hint of empathy in his eyes. He turns to address Rick.

“The peace we have with the Saviors is uneasy, but it is peace. I have to hold onto it. I have to try. Although the Kingdom cannot grant you the aid you desire, the King is sympathetic to your plight. I offer our friends Daryl and Aliana asylum, for as long as they require it. They will be safe here, the Saviors do not set foot inside our walls.”

“How long you think that's gonna last?” Daryl grouses.

He tugs at Ali's elbow, and they turn to leave, Rick and the rest of the group trailing behind them.

Richard catches up with Rick, eager to have some kind of involvement in their fight. They walk for a moment in silence, and just before they reach the gate, Richard speaks.

“How many people do we have, to fight? I'll go with you.”

“We don't even have enough to take on one outpost face to face yet.” Rick answers, his jaw set in irritation.

“So the Kingdom has to get involved or the Saviors will always be in charge. This isn't about soldiers. We're making them stronger. The more food, the more arms, the more supplies we give them, we're making them harder and harder to beat.”

They gather at the gate, considering Richard’s words.

“Alright, open it up, we’re gone.” Daryl calls up to the guard at his post.

“You're not.” Rick says cautiously.

“We ain't stayin’ here!” 

“You have to, you and Ali both.”

“No way!” 

“It's the smartest play, you know it is.”

“No…”

“Daryl, We’re safe here, until we can figure out what to do next .” Ali reaches over to touch his hand.

“What? And you agree with him?” He asks, anger rising in his voice.

She doesn't answer.

He realizes this is the first time he's been angry with her. Though his anger has always been his protection, he has never had to protect himself against her. But her siding with Rick, brought the rage out, and he slips it on like a well worn glove.

 

“Talk to the King, both of you, see if you can change his mind.”

 

Aaron hugs Ali and kisses her forehead. 

“We'll be back soon.” He says, and Ali nods.

The group files out and the heavy gates close behind them.

Ali turns to face him, knowing she'd be better off throwing herself in the path of a tornado. She opens her mouth to speak, and before she can find her words, he cuts her off.

“Don't! Just don't.”

He turns and stalks off, leaving her to question her decision to ask the King for asylum.

A decision she had made early in the morning, while the man she loves and is desperate to protect, slept.

_Checking her watch, Ali can barely make out the time. 4am. Daryl sleeps with his back to her, on a cot pushed up next to hers. Glenn and Aaron are on cots nearby._

_She sits up, and quietly grabs her boots and knife. The cinderblock room feels like it's closing in on her, and she's desperate for air._

_Once she's made it down the hall, she tugs her boots on, and pushes through the doors and out into the courtyard. After wandering around a moment, she's startled by a figure on a bench in the garden._

_“Ali, is it?” Ezekiel asks._

_“That's me.” She says._

_“Is that short for something?”_

_“Aliana.”_

_“Beautiful name.”_

_She moves in front of the King, who just sits, quietly. “What are you doing out here,” She asks. “Shouldn't you have your tiger, or guards, or like secret service or something?”_

_He laughs. “Not within these walls. All are safe here. I come here to mediate early each day. And I've come today, to ponder Rick’s request.”_

_“Look, I know there's about a snowball’s chance in hell of you siding with us. I can just tell. But I'd like to make my own request, in hopes you will keep it confidential.”_

_“Ask away, fair Aliana.”_

_“Grant Daryl and I the right of asylum. Just until we figure out how to fight. How to win. Please.”_

_“Is he your husband?”_

_“No, but he's mine, and I'm his. I would do anything for him.”_

_Ezekiel looks down, smiling and nodding, before looking back at Ali._

_“It is done. This is your home, for as long as you need.”_

_“Thank you. If there is anything I can do to repay you…”_

_He raises his hand, gently shaking his head._

_“You had better get back before someone realizes you're missing.”_

_She nods, turning back the way she came. Wondering if Daryl would accept this deal, and if it really would be confidential._

She stands there alone, long after everyone left, as the community buzzes around her. 

*****

Ali spends some time in the dingy room they would be calling home for a while. She paces the perimeter, rifles through the clothes in boxes, looks through stacks of books, and she waits. 

But he doesn't return.

Unable to take it anymore, she leaves for the courtyard, needing fresh air, needing sunshine, needing anything but to sit there and ruminate.

 

She walks over to the archery setup. The rest of the town had dispersed by then and, seeing no one around, she takes a moment to examine their supplies.

Running her hands over the bows on the table, remembering the one stolen from her. Remembering the woods. Remembering the single word offered by the man she gave her heart to.

Breathe.

“Morgan says you're a good shot.”

A male voice behind her causes her to whirl around. “Jesus! Do you all make it a habit to sneak up on people around here?”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” Richard holds his hands out in surrender.

“I'm just, jumpy these days…”

“For good reason. Well. Let's see what you got.” He says, holding out a bow and quiver.

She looks at him for a moment, cautious and searching for a motive, before taking the weapon into her hands. Flexing her fingers, she loops the quiver over her shoulder.

Moving within range of a target, she pulls an arrow out, lining up her sight.

 

She takes a breath.

And lets it fly.

It hits the upper left corner of the bullseye center.

She pulls another. Upper right corner.

Another. Lower left corner.

Another. Lower right corner.

The anger rises inside her gut. Bile threatening her throat as she thinks of her treatment at the hands of the Saviors.

She takes five giant steps back and lets the last arrow go. 

It hits the very center. Right in the middle of the other four. She stares at it a moment, nonreactive. 

“Excellent! Just excellent!” A booming voice behind her brings her back to earth. “You're a natural talent.”

Ali turns and finds herself face to face with the King.

“I um… I had one, before.” She stumbles over her words, embarrassed by her overzealous display. 

She hands the bow and quiver back to Richard, who pushes it gently back to her.

“It's yours.” The King says kindly. “This one was calling out to you. Perhaps you would consider helping the ones still learning around here?”

Ali shrugs. 

She can feel the weight of his stare. She's felt it the whole time and she lets her eyes wander to the balcony of the building behind the King. 

Daryl leans over the rail, the slightest smirk on his face. He gives her a nod, and she looks down, blushing.

Descending the concrete steps, he walks over to join Ali.

“She's a natural.” Richard says.

“I had a good teacher.” Ali responds, as she lines another arrow in the sight.

“Nah, it's all her.” Daryl watches as she hits the next target dead center, and goes to collect her arrows.

“Morgan says you're a bowman.” Richard holds a crossbow out to Daryl. “We're going to have to start using these more. The Saviors hoard any gun then can get their hands on.”

He takes the weapon, turning it over in his hands, before looking through the sight. Ali pretends to be focused on her target practice, but listens to their exchange intently.

“Why?” Daryl asks, questioning the gifting of their new weapons.

“We want the same things. And I need your help.”

Daryl nods in response, and turns to Ali. He leans in close, his hand circling her bicep.

“Stay here. Don't be doin’ anybody no favors that could get you hurt. And I'll be back soon.”

She clenches her jaw, looking at him with pleading eyes. But she says nothing, just nods, and he gives her arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. 

Ali watches him walk away. Dread pools in her stomach, but she remains quiet.

 

*****

 

The sun beats down on them as they trudge through tall grasses, rifles in hand, to a lone deserted highway just outside of the Kingdom. They duck behind an old semi truck trailer, smeared in blood and filth.

“What're we doin’ out here?” Daryl asks, swiping away sweat on his forehead.

“The Saviors pass through here, usually in pairs. I need your help taking them out. We need something to move Ezekiel into action. I've taken a weapon belonging to someone in the Kingdom. We take two of them out, and we leave her weapon behind, make it look like she got hurt and ran. They'll question it at the next drop, and I'll give her location away…”

“It's a woman?”

“That girl, the archer, if they know she's in the Kingdom, they'll come in after her. This will break the treaty and Ezekiel will be forced to fight.”

“No.” He says through gritted teeth.

“I know she's part of your group, but we all have to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Richard pulls Ali's machete from his pack, unsheathing it, preparing it for use.

“I said no!” 

“Maybe they won't kill her, at worst, she'll be made one of his wives. But you know what needs to happen. This is our chance to get rid of the Saviors, our chance for all of us to have a future!”

“Stay the fuck away from her.” Daryl grabs his pack from the ground and holds his hand out to collect the machete. “You steal from her again, and I'll cut your fucking arm off.”

Motorcycles in the distance break the tense silence. Daryl drops his pack and readying his crossbow.

“It's them. Look, we can wait for things to go bad, and lose people. Or we can do the hard thing, and choose our fate for ourselves.”

Daryl narrows his eyes.

“I'm sorry.” Richard says and turns the corner of the truck with his rifle aimed for the motorcycles.

Daryl drops his crossbow and lunges forward, grabbing Richard by the collar and pulling him backwards to the ground. He uses his forearm to choke him, before punching his face repeatedly. 

In his minds eye he sees her smile, and feels her touch. He hears the soft sounds she makes as she takes him inside her, and the taste of her kiss on his lips. He hits Richard as the rage consumes him, and he slams his head into the ground before letting go.

He scrambles over to his crossbow, aiming it at Richard as the man stumbles to his feet. 

The motorcycles pass, unaware of their existence behind the trailer.

“They'll be back. We will have another chance, but we're running out of time. If you and your people want to move against the Saviors, you need to do it soon, and you need the Kingdom. This will require sacrifice. One way or another. Guys like us, we've already lost so much. What's one girl?”

“You don't know me, and you sure as hell don't know her. She's mine. And I'll make sure you die before she does.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't…”

Daryl lowers his crossbow and takes a step forward.

“That girl? Ain't some kinda pawn in your plan to make a shitty deal. That girl? Ain't done a single fucking thing in her entire life to deserve what you're tryin’ to do to her.” He pauses to clench his jaw, before continuing. “That girl, stays with me. She is _mine_ and if anything happens to her… if she goes missing... If she gets hurt, if she dies, if she gets taken out by a walker, if she catches a fever, if she gets hit by lightning, I'll kill you. And I'll kill whoever else you try to convince to help you with this.”

“I would die for the Kingdom.” Richard says sadly.

“Then why don't you?” Daryl grits his teeth as he yanks his pack off of the ground with his bleeding hand.

Leaving Richard behind him, he fights back tears from the rage. Guilt grabs at him like a vice, as he remembers he didn't leave her on the best of terms. 

So he runs. Back to the Kingdom.

Back to her.

 

*****

 

Ali lies on her back on the camping cot in the classroom. She nervously checks her watch every few minutes, and reads an old copy of Slaughterhouse-Five, without absorbing anything.

The door bursts open and she jumps up, knife in hand, ready to fight.

Daryl sighs in relief, and drops his pack and crossbow. He's completely drenched in sweat and looks exhausted.

“What happened?” She asks, eyebrows knitted in confusion and concern.

He takes her face in his hands, looking directly in her bright eyes.

“I'm sorry. I was a dick. I'm sorry, you didn't do nothin’ wrong.”

He kisses her hard, and she wraps her arms around his neck. 

She slips her boots off and her hands move to his belt as he walks her backwards to the cot.

He tugs her pants down, crouching to help pull them over her feet. As he rises, he kisses her through her panties, feeling the heat and moisture there. She grips his shoulders and as he stands, he lifts her up, lowering her gently onto the cot.

She opens the front of his pants, clumsily yanks her underwear off of one leg, and she guides him inside her.

He starts off slow, filling and stretching her, before picking up the pace.

She reaches down to grab his ass and pull him in deeper, and moans when he hits her cervix. He reaches down to rub circles over her sensitive nub, to try and chase away her discomfort.

He pushes and she pulls in a frantic pace. Never feeling close enough, never feeling deep enough.

But then they come undone, and the world filters back in around them. The euphoric haze of their fucking dissipates.

When he pulls out to lie beside her, she catches her breath enough to speak.

“What was that?” Questioning the motivation of their desperate coupling, she turns to look at him.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I…” 

“I ain't ever gonna let anything happen to you.”

She kisses his lips gently, and pulls away to wipe sweaty hair from his face.

“I love you.” She nuzzles her head into his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding.

They lie there, his pants open and undone, and moisture from their exchange pooling underneath her. Their hearts are racing, their chests heaving, as they stare at the ceiling. The silence is loud with their racing thoughts.

He wonders if she can ever be safe there, and who he'll have to kill to make sure she is.

And she wonders if he can ever understand what he means to her, and what he's done to help her heal.

 

“Be mine. Forever.” She whispers, tilting her head to look into his eyes. And the stormy blue swallows her whole.

 

“I already am.”


End file.
